\  / 


~^T  j 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 


Peter  Scott 


FREDERICK    THE    GREAT. 


GERMANY   IN   STORM   AND   STRESS 


OLD   FRITZ 
AND  THE   NEW   ERA 


BY 

L.   MUHLBACH 


AUTHOR   OF   THE  EMPRESS  JOSEPHINE,    MARIE   ANTOINETTE,  JOSEPH   II.    AND   HIS   COURT, 
FREDERICK  THE   GREAT   AND   HIS   FAMILY,    BERLIN   AND   SANS-SOUC1,    ETC. 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    GERMAN    BY 

PETER   LANGLEY 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

1907 


COPYRIGHT,  1868, 
BY  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  I. 

OLD    FRITZ. 

CHAPTER 

PAGE 

I. 

7 

II. 

Wilhelmine  Enke,          ...... 

16 

III. 

27 

IV. 

38 

V. 

The  Oath  of  Fidelity,          

48 

VI. 

The  Parade,    . 

.     61 

VII. 

75 

VIII. 

The  Golden  Rain,   

86 

IX. 

92 

BOOK  II. 

ROSICRUCIANS  AND  POWERFUL  GENIUSES. 

X. 

Goethe  in  Berlin,   

.  107 

XI. 

The  Inner  and  the  Middle  Temple,     .        .        . 

.       123 

XII. 

The  Jesuit  General,        ...... 

137 

XIII. 

A  Pensioned  General,          

.       148 

XIV. 

.  153 

XV. 

Hate  and  Love,    

.       161 

XVI. 

173 

XVII. 

Goethe's  Visits,   

.      180 

XVIII. 

193 

2227648 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  III. 
STORM  AND  PRESSURE. 

CHAPTER  PAOK 

XIX.  The  King  and  the  Austrian  Diplomat,          .        .      198 

XX.  The  King  and  the  Lover,          .        .  .        .212 

XXI.  In  Weimar,    .....        f        ,         .228 

XXII.  The  Reading 235 

XXIII.  Witchcraft, 241 

XXIV.  The  Purse-Proud  Man 250 

XXV.  The  Elopement, 266 

XXVI.     Under  the  Starry  Heavens,       ....        .273 
XXVII.     The  Sacrifice, 281 

BOOK  IV. 

THE  VISIBLES  AND  THE  INVISIBLES. 

XXVIII.     Old  Fritz, .  298 

XXIX.     Cagliostro's  Return, 313 

XXX.     The  Triumvirate, 319 

XXXI.     Future  Plans 328 

XXXII.     Miracles  and  Spirits, 333 

XXXHI.  The  Return  Home,          .        .        .        .        .        .344 

XXXIV.     Behind  the  Mask, 356 

XXXV.    The  Curse, .363 

XXXVI.  The  King  and  the  Rosicrucians,        .        .        .        .373 

XXXVII.     The  Espousals 381 

3LXXVUL     Kevenge  Fulfilled, 888 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


I-ACING 
PAGB 

Portrait  of  Frederick  the  Great frontispiece 

Jupiter  and  Danae 92 

Old  Fritz 202 

Frederick  and  Count  von  Herzberg 808 


THE  HISTORICAL  ROMANCE. 

BY   L.    MUHLBACH, 

TJTHOR  OF    "  FREDERICK   THE   GREAT  AND   HIS  COURT,"    "JOSEPH  H.,' 
"  MERCHANT  OF  BERLIN,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


I  WOULD  merely  say  a  few  words  in  justification  of  the  His- 
torical Komance,  in  its  relation  to  history.  Any  one,  with  no 
preceding  profound  study  of  history,  who  takes  a  few  well- 
known  historical  facts  as  a  foundation  for  an  airy  castle  of 
romantic  invention  and  fantastic  adventure,  may  easily  write 
an  Historical  Eomance;  for  him  history  is  only  the  nude 
manikin  which  he  clothes  and  adorns  according  to  his  own 
taste,  and  to  which  he  gives  the  place  and  position  most  agree- 
able to  himself.  But  only  the  writer  who  is  in  earnest  with 
respect  to  historical  truth,  who  is  not  impelled  by  levity  or 
conceited  presumption,  is  justified  in  attempting  this  species 
of  composition;  thoroughly  impressed  with  the  greatness  of 
his  undertaking,  he  will  with  modest  humility  constantly  re- 
member that  he  has  proposed  to  himself  a  great  and  sublime 
work  which,  however,  it  will  be  difficult  if  not  impossible  for 
him  wholly  and  completely  to  accomplish. 

But  what  is  this  great,  this  sublime  end,  which  the  His- 
torical Romance  writer  proposes  to  attain?  It  is  this:  to 
illustrate  history,  to  popularize  it;  to  bring  forth  from  the 
silent  studio  of  the  scholar  and  to  expose  in  the  public  market 
of  life,  for  the  common  good,  the  great  men  and  great  deeds 
embalmed  in  history,  and  of  which  only  the  studious  have 
hitherto  enjoyed  the  monopoly.  Thus,  at  least,  have  I  con- 
sidered the  vocation  I  have  chosen,  not  vainly  or  inconsider- 
1 


THE  HISTORICAL  ROMANCE. 

ately,  but  with  a  profound  conviction  of  the  greatness  of  my 
undertaking,  and  with  a  depressing  consciousness  that  ray 
power  and  acquirements  may  prove  inadequate  for  the  attain- 
ment of  my  proposed  end. 

But  I  am  also  fully  conscious  of  what  was  and  still  is  my 
greatest  desire :  to  give  an  agreeable  and  popular  form  to  our 
national  history,  which  may  attract  the  attention  and  affec- 
tions of  our  people,  which  may  open  their  understandings  to 
the  tendencies  of  political  movements,  and  connect  the  facts 
of  history  with  the  events  of  actual  life. 

The  severe  historian  has  to  do  but  with  accomplished  facts; 
he  can  only  record  and  describe,  with  the  strictest  regard  to 
truth,  that  which  has  outwardly  occurred.  He  describes  the 
battles  of  peoples,  the  struggles  of  nations,  the  great  deeds  of 
heroes,  the  actions  of  princes — in  short,  he  gives  the  accom- 
plished facts.  To  investigate  and  explain  the  secret  motives, 
the  hidden  causes  of  these  facts,  to  present  them  in  connection 
with  all  that  impelled  to  them,  this  is  the  task  of  Historical 
Romance. 

The  historian  presents  to  you  the  outward  face,  the  exter- 
nal form  of  history ;  Historical  Romance  would  show  you  the 
heart  of  history,  and  thus  bring  near  to  your  heart  what,  else, 
would  stand  so  far  off.  To  enable  him  to  do  this,  the  writer 
of  an  Historical  Romance  must,  indeed,  make  severe  and 
various  studies.  He  must  devote  his  whole  mind  and  soul  to 
the  epoch  he  would  illustrate,  he  must  live  in  it  and  feel  with 
it.  He  must  so  familiarize  himself  with  all  the  details,  as  in 
a  manner  to  become  a  child  of  that  epoch ;  for  he  can  present 
a  really  living  image  of  only  that  which  is  living  in  himself. 
That  this  requires  a  deep  and  earnest  study  of  history  is  self- 
evident.  Historical  Romance  demands  the  study  of  the  his- 
torian, together  with  the  creative  imagination  of  the  poet. 
For  the  free  embodiment  of  the  poet  can  blossom  only  from 
out  the  studio  of  the  historian,  as  the  flower  from  the  seed ; 
as,  by  a  reciprocal  organic  action,  the  hyacinth  is  derived 
from  the  onion,  and  the  rose  from  its  seed-capsule,  so  are  hia- 


THE  HISTORICAL  ROMANCE.  3 

tory  and  poetry  combined  in  the  Historical  Romance,  giving 
and  receiving  life  to  and  from  each  other. 

The  Historical  Romance  has  its  great  task  and  its  great 
justification — a  truth  disputed  by  only  those  who  either  have 
not  understood  or  will  not  understand  its  nature. 

The  Historical  Romance  has,  if  I  may  be  allowed  so  to 
speak,  four  several  objects  for  which  to  strive : 

Its  first  object  is,  to  throw  light  upon  the  dark  places  of 
history,  necessarily  left  unclear  by  the  historian.  Poetry  has 
the  right  and  duty  of  setting  facts  in  a  clear  light,  and  of 
illuminating  the  darkness  by  its  sunny  beams.  The  poetry 
of  the  romance  writer  seeks  to  deduce  historical  characteristics 
from  historical  facts,  and  to  draw  from  the  spirit  of  history 
an  elucidation  of  historical  characters,  so  that  the  writer  may 
be  able  to  detect  their  inmost  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  in 
just  and  sharp  traits  to  communicate  them  to  others. 

The  second  task  of  Historical  Romance  is,  to  group  his- 
torical characters  according  to  their  internal  natures,  and  thus 
to  elucidate  and  illustrate  history.  This  illustration  then 
leads  to  the  third  task,  which  is  the  discovery  and  exposition 
of  the  motives  which  impel  individual  historical  personages  to 
the  performance  of  great  historical  acts,  and  from  outwardly, 
apparently  insignificant  events  in  their  lives  to  deduce  their 
inmost  thoughts  and  natures,  and  represent  them  clearly  to 
others. 

Thence  follows  the  fourth  task :  the  illustration  of  historical 
facts  by  a  romance  constructed  in  the  spirit  of  the  history. 
This  fourth  and  principal  task  is  the  presentation  of  history 
in  a  dramatic  form  and  with  animated  descriptions ;  upon  the 
foundation  of  history  to  erect  the  temple  of  poesy,  which 
must  nevertheless  be  pervaded  and  illuminated  by  historic 
truth.  From  this  it  naturally  follows  that  it  is  of  very  little 
consequence  whether  the  personages  of  the  Historical  Romance 
actually  spoke  the  words  or  performed  the  acts  attributed  to 
them;  it  is  only  necessary  that  those  words  and  deeds  should 
be  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  and  character  of  such  his 


4  THE  HISTORICAL  ROMANCE. 

torical  personages,  and  that  the  writer  should  not  attribute 
to  them  what  they  could  not  have  spoken  or  done.  In  the 
Historical  Komance,  when  circumstances  or  events  are  pre- 
sented in  accordance  with  historical  tradition,  when  the 
characters  are  naturally  described,  they  bear  with  them  their 
own  justification,  and  Historical  Romance  has  need  of  no 
further  defence. 

Historical  Komance  should  be  nothing  but  an  illustration 
of  history.  If  the  drawing,  grouping,  coloring,  and  style  of 
such  an  illustration  of  any  given  historical  epoch  are  admitted 
to  be  true,  then  the  illustration  rises  to  the  elevation  of  a 
work  of  art,  worthy  of  a  place  beside  the  historical  picture, 
and  is  equally  useful. 

Raphael's  "School  of  Athens,"  his  "Institution  of  the 
Communion,"  and  many  others  of  his  pictures,  are  such  illus- 
trations of  history — as  also  the  great  paintings  of  Eubens  from 
the  life  of  Anna  dei  Medici ;  and  then  the  historical  pictures 
of  Horace  Vernet,  of  Delaroche,  of  Lessing,  and  of  Kau> 
bach — all  these  are  illustrations  of  history.  What  those  ar- 
tists present  and  illustrate  with  paint  and  pencil,  the  Historical 
Romancer  represents  in  words  with  his  pen;  and  when  he 
does  this  successfully,  he  will  live  in  the  memory  of  his  reader 
as  imperishably  as  the  great  historical  pictures  of  the  painters 
in  the  memory  of  their  beholders. 

It  would  occur  to  no  one  to  accuse  a  successful  historical 
picture  of  falsehood,  because  the  books  of  history  do  not  show 
that  the  occurrence  took  place  precisely  in  the  manner  repre- 
sented, that  the  historical  personages  really  so  laughed  or 
wept,  or  so  deported  themselves.  If  the  situation  and  group- 
ing of  historical  events  are  allowed  to  be  in  accordance  with 
the  general  tenor  of  history,  then  the  picture  may  be  pro- 
nounced historically  true,  and  is  just  as  good  a  piece  of  his- 
tory as  the  record  of  the  special  historian.  It  is  the  same 
with  the  pictures  of  the  romancer  as  with  those  of  the  painter; 
and  this  is  my  answer  to  those  who,  on  every  occasion,  are 


THE  HISTORICAL  ROMANCE.  5 

continually  asking:  "Was  it  really  thus?  Did  it  really 
occur  in  that  manner?" 

Show  me  from  history  that  it  could  not  be  so;  that  it  is  not 
in  accordance  with  the  character  of  the  persons  represented — 
*hen  I  will  confess  that  I  am  wrong,  and  you  are  right;  then 
nave  I  not  presented  an  illustration,  but  only  a  caricature  of 
history,  faulty  as  a  work  of  art,  and  wanting  the  dignity  of 
truth. 

I  am  conscious  of  having  earnestly  and  devotedly  striven 
for  the  truth,  and  of  having  diligently  sought  it  in  all  attain- 
able historical  works.  The  author  of  an  Historical  Romance 
has  before  him  a  difficult  task :  while  he  must  falsify  nothing 
in  history,  he  must  poetize  it  in  a  manner  that  both  historical 
and  poetic  truth  shall  be  the  result.  To  those,  however,  who 
so  very  severely  judge  Historical  Romance,  and  would  deny 
its  historical  worth,  I  now,  in  conclusion,  answer  with  the 
following  significant  quotation  from  Schiller: 

"  I  shall  always  prove  a  bad  resource  for  any  future  his- 
torian who  may  have  the  misfortune  to  recur  to  me.  History 
is  generally  only  a  magazine  for  my  fantasy,  and  objects  must 
be  contented  with  whatever  they  may  become  under  my 
hand." — (See  Weisnar's  "Musenhof,"  p.  93.) 

This  declaration  of  Schiller  satisfies  me  with  respect  to  the 
'nature  of  my  own  creations.  I  desire  not  to  be  a  resource  for 
historical  writers,  but  I  shall  always  earnestly  and  zealously 
seek  to  draw  from  the  wells  of  history,  that  nothing  false  or 
"unreal  may  find  a  place  in  the  "magazine  of  my  fantasy." 

CLARA  MUNDT, 

(L.  MUHLBACH.) 
BERIJN,  September  22,  1866. 


OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 


BOOK  I 


OLD    FRITZ. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE      LONELY    KING. 

"WELL,  so  let  it  be!"  said  the  king,  sighing,  as  he  rose 
from  his  arm-chair ;  "  I  must  go  forth  to  the  strife,  and  these 
old  limbs  must  again  submit  to  the  fatigue  of  war.  But  what 
matters  it?  The  life  of  princes  is  passed  in  the  fulfilment  of 
duties  and  responsibilities,  and  rarely  is  it  gladdened  with 
the  "sunny  rays  of  joy  and  peace!  Let  us  submit! 

"  Yes,  let  us  submit!"  repeated  the  king,  thoughtfully, 
slowly  pacing  his  cabinet  back  and  forth,  his  hands  folded 
upon  his  staff  behind  him,  and  his  favorite  dog,  Alkmene, 
sleepily  following  him. 

It  was  a  melancholy  picture  to  see  this  bowed-down  old 
man ;  his  thin,  pale  face  shaded  by  a  worn-out,  three-cornered 
hat,  his  dirty  uniform  strewn  with  snuff;  and  his  meagre 
legs  encased  in  high-topped,  unpolished  boots;  his  only  com- 
panion a  greyhound,  old  and  joyless  as  his  master.  Neither 
the  bust  of  Voltaire,  with  its  beaming,  intelligent  face,  nor 
those  of  his  friends,  Lord-Marshal  Keith  and  the  Marquis 
d'Argens,  could  win  an  affectionate  glance  from  the  lonely  old 
king.  He  whom  Europe  distinguished  as  the  Great  Freder- 
ick, whom  his  subjects  called  their  "father  and  benefactor," 


0  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

whose  name  was  worthy  to  shine  among  the  brightest  stars  of 
heaven,  his  pale,  thin  lips  just  murmured,  "Kesignation!" 

With  downcast  eyes  he  paced  his  cabinet,  murmuring,  "  Let 
us  submit!"  He  would  not  look  up  to  those  who  were  gazing 
down  upon  him  from  the  walls — to  those  who  were  no  more. 
The  remembrance  of  them  unnerved  him,  and  filled  his  heart 
with  grief.  The  experiences  of  life,  and  the  ingratitude  of 
men,  had  left  many  a  scar  upon  this  royal  heart,  but  had 
never  hardened  it;  it  was  still  overflowing  with  tender  sym- 
pathy and  cherished  memories.  To  Lord-Marshal  Keith, 
Marquis  d'Argens,  and  Voltaire,  Frederick  owed  the  happi- 
est years  of  his  life. 

D'Argens,  who  passionately  loved  Frederick,  had  been 
dead  five  years ;  Lord-Marshal  Keith  one  month ;  and  Voltaire 
was  dying!  This  intelligence  the  king  had  received  that 
very  morning,  from  his  Paris  correspondent,  Grimm.  It  was 
this  that  filled  his  heart  with  mourning.  The  face,  that 
smiled  so  full  of  intelligence,  was  perhaps  distorted  with 
agony,  and  those  beaming  eyes  were  now  closing  in  death ! 

Voltaire  was  dying ! 

Frederick's  thoughts  were  with  the  dead  and  dying — with 
the  past!  He  recalled,  when  crown  prince  at  Rheinsberg, 
how  much  he  had  admired,  loved,  and  distinguished  Voltaire; 
how  he  rejoiced,  and  how  honored  he  felt,  when,  as  a  young 
king,  Voltaire  yielded  to  his  request  to  live  with  him  at  Ber- 
lin. This  intimacy,  it  is  true,  did  not  long  continue;  the 
king  was  forced  to  recognize,  with  bitter  regret,  that  the 
man  Voltaire  was  not  worthy  the  love  which  he  bestowed 
upon  the  poet.  He  renounced  the  man,  but  the  poet  was  still 
his  admiration ;  and  all  the  perfidy,  slander,  and  malice  of 
Voltaire,  had  never  changed  Frederick.  The  remembrance 
of  it  had  long  since  faded  from  his  noble  heart — only  the 
memory  of  the  poet,  of  the  author  of  so  many  hours  of  the 
purest  enjoyment,  remained. 

Voltaire  was  dying ! 

This  great  and  powerful  spirit,  who  so  long  a  time,  in  the 


THE   LONELY  KING.  9 

natural  body,  had  instructed,  inspired,  and  refreshed  man- 
kind, would  leave  that  body  to  rise — whither? 

"Immortality,  what  art  thou?"  asked  the  king,  aloud,  and 
for  the  first  time  raising  his  eyes  with  an  inquiring  glance  to 
the  busts  of  his  friends.  "  I  have  sought  for  thee,  I  have 
toiled  for  thee,  my  whole  life  long !  Neither  the  researches 
of  the  learned,  nor  the  subtleties  of  philosophy  reveal  thee  to 
me.  Is  there  any  other  immortality  than  fame?  Any  other 
eternal  life  than  that  which  the  memory  of  succeeding  gener- 
ations grants  to  the  dead?"  In  this  tone  of  thought  Freder- 
ick recited,  audibly,  the  conclusion  of  a  poem,  which  he  had 
addressed  to  D'Alembert: 

"  I  have  consecrated  my  days  to  philosophy, 
I  admit  all  the  innocent  pleasures  of  life; 
And  knowing  that  soon  my  course  will  finish, 
I  enjoy  the  present  with  fear  of  the  future. 
What  is  there  to  fear  after  death? 
If  the  body  and  the  inind  suffer  the  same  fate, 
I  shall  return  and  mingle  with  nature; 
If  a  remnant  of  my  intellectual  fire  escapes  death, 
I  will  flee  to  the  arms  of  my  God."  * 

"And  may  this  soon  be  granted  me!"  continued  the  king; 
"  then  I  shall  be  reunited  to  those  loved  ones — gone  before. 
I  must  be  content  to  tarry  awhile  in  this  earthly  vale  of  sor- 
row, and  finish  the  task  assigned  me  by  the  Great  Teacher; 
therefore,  let  us  submit." 

He  sighed ;  pacing  to  and  fro,  his  steps  were  arrested  at  a 
side-table,  where  lay  a  long  black  velvet  box ;  it  contained  the 
flute  that  his  beloved  teacher,  Quantz,  had  made  for  him. 
Frederick  had  always  kept  it  in  his  cabinet  as  a  memento  of 
his  lost  friend;  as  this  room  he  had  devoted  to  a  temple  of 
Memory — of  the  past ! 

"  Another  of  the  joys,  another  of  the  stars  of  my  life  van- 
ished !"  murmured  the  king.  "  My  charming  concerts  are  at 
an  end!  Quantz,  Brenda,  and  my  glorious  Graun  an  no 
more.  While  they  are  listening  to  the  heavenly  choir,  I  must 
be  content  with  the  miserable,  idle  chatter  of  men;  the  thun- 

*  Posthumous  works,  vol.  vii.,  p.  83. 


10  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

der  of  battle  deafening  my  ears,  to  which  that  mad,  ambitious 
Emperor  of  Austria  hopes  to  force  me!" 

As  the  king  thus  soliloquized,  he  involuntarily  drew  from 
the  box  the  beautiful  ebony  flute,  exquisitely  ornamented 
with  silver.  A  smile  played  around  his  delicate  mouth.  He 
raised  the  flute  to  his  lips,  and  a  melancholy  strain  floated 
through  the  stillness — the  king's  requiem  to  the  dead,  his  fare- 
well to  the  dying ! 

No  sound  of  the  outer  world  penetrated  that  lonely  room. 
The  guard  of  honor,  on  duty  upon  the  Sans-Souci  terrace, 
halted  suddenly,  as  the  sad  music  fell  upon  his  ear.  The 
fresh  spring  breeze  swept  through  the  trees,  and  drove  the 
laden-blossomed  elder-bushes  tapping  against  the  window- 
panes,  as  if  to  offer  a  May-greeting  to  the  lonely  king.  The 
servant  in  waiting  stole  on  tiptoe  to  the  door  of  the  anteroom, 
listening  breathlessly  at  the  key-hole  to  the  moving  melody. 

Even  Alkmene  suddenly  raised  her  head  as  if  something 
unusual  were  taking  place,  fixed  her  great  eyes  upon  her  mas- 
ter, jumping  upon  his  knee,  and  resting  her  fore-paws 
lovingly  upon  his  breast. 

Frederick  neither  observed  nor.  felt  the  movement  of  his 
favorite ;  his  thoughts  were  absent  from  the  present — absent 
from  the  earth!  They  were  wandering  in  the  unknown 
future,  with  the  spirits  of  those  he  longed  to  see  again  in  the 
Elysian  fields. 

The  wailing  music  of  his  flute  expressed  the  lamentation  of 
his  soul,  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  raised  them  to  the 
bust  of  Voltaire,  gazing  at  it  with  a  look  of  pain  until  the 
melody  was  finished.  Then  abruptly  turning,  half  unwill- 
ingly, half  angrily,  he  returned  the  flute  to  the  box,  and  stole 
away,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  as  if  to  hide  his 
emotion  from  himself. 

"  Now  we  have  finished  with  the  dead,  and  the  living  claim 
our  thoughts,"  sighed  the  king.  "What  an  absurd  thing  is 
the  human  heart!  It  will  never  grow  cold  or  old;  always 
pretending  to  a  spark  of  the  fire  which  that  shameful  fellow 


THE  LONELY  KING.  11 

Prometheus  stole  from  the  gods.  What  an  absurdity !  What 
have  I,  an  old  fellow,  to  do  with  the  fire  of  Prometheus,  when 
the  fire  of  war  will  soon  rage  around  me."  At  this  instant 
the  door  gently  opened.  "What  do  you  want,  Miiller? 
What  do  you  poke  your  stupid  face  in  here  for?"  said  the 
king. 

"Pardon  me,  your  majesty,"  replied  the  footman,  "the 
Baron  von  Arnim  begs  for  an  audience." 

"Bid  him  enter,"  commanded  the  king,  sinking  back  in 
his  old,  faded  velvet  arm-chair.  Resting  his  chin  upon  his 
staff,  he  signed  to  the  baron,  who  stood  bowing  upon  the 
threshold,  to  approach.  "  Well,  Arnim,  what  is  the  matter? 
What  papers  have  you  there?" 

"Sire,"  answered  Baron  von  Arnim,  "the  contract  of  the 
French  actors,  which  needs  renewing,  I  have  to  lay  before 
your  majesty ;  also  a  paper,  received  yesterday,  from  Madame 
Mara;  still  another  from  the  singer  Conciliani,  and  a  petition 
from  four  persons  from  the  opera." 

"What  stupid  stuff!"  growled  the  king,  at  the  same  time 
bestowing  a  caress  upon  Alkmene.  "  Commence  with  your 
report.  Let  us  hear  what  those  singers  are  now  asking  for." 

"  The  singer  Concialini  has  addressed  a  heart-breaking  let- 
ter to  your  majesty,  and  prays  for  an  increase  of  salary — that 
it  is  impossible  for  him  to  live  upon  three  thousand  dollars." 

"Ah!  that  is  what  is  wanted?"  cried  the  king,  furious, 
and  striking  his  staff  upon  the  floor.  "  The  fellow  is  mad ; 
when  he  cannot  live  upon  three  thousand,  he  will  not  be  able 
to  live  upon  four.  I  want  money  for  cannon.  I  cannot 
spend  it  for  such  nonsense.  I  am  surprised,  Von  Arnim, 
that  you  repeat  such  stuff  to  me." 

"  Your  majesty,  it  is  my  duty  that  I — " 

"  What !  Your  duty  is  not  to  flatter  them.  I  pay  them  to 
give  me  pleasure,  not  presumption.  Remember,  once  for  all, 
do  not  flatter  them.  Conciliani  will  get  no  increase  of  sal- 
ary. If  he  persists,  let  him  go  to  the  mischief!  This  is  my 
decision. — Proceed!  What  is  Madame  Mara  begging  for?" 


12  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Madame  Mara  constantly  refuses  to  sing  the  airs  which 
your  majesty  commanded,  to  be  introduced  into  the  opera  of 
'Coriolanus.'  She  has  taken  the  liberty  to  address  you  in 
writing;  here  is  the  letter,  if  your  majesty  will  have  the 
grace  to  read  it." 

"By  no  means,  sir,  by  no  means!"  cried  the  king;  at  the 
same  instant  catching  the  paper  with  his  staff,  h  slung  it 
like  a  shot  arrow  to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room,  to  the 
great  amusement  of  Alkmene,  who,  with  a  loud  bark,  spr  ng 
from  her  master's  knee,  and  with  a  bound  caught  the  strange 
bird,  and  tore  it  in  pieces.  "You  are  right,  my  pet,"  said 
the  king,  laughing,  "  you  have  written  my  answer  with  your, 
nose  to  this  arrogant  person.  Director,  say  to  Madame  Marat 
that  I  pay  her  to  sing,  not  to  write.  She  must  sing  both  airs, 
or  she  may  find  herself  at  Spandau  for  her  obstinacy,  where 
her  husband  is,  for  the  same  reason.  She  can  reflect,  and 
judge  for  herself." 

The  director  could  scarcely  repress  a  sigh,  foreboding  the 
disagreeable  scene  that  he  would  have  to  encounter  with  the 
proud  and  passionate  singer.  Timidly  Von  Arnim  alluded  to 
the  four  persons  from  the  opera.  "  Who  are  these  demoiselles, 
and  what  do  they  want?"  asked  the  king. 

"Sire,"  replied  the  Baron  von  Arnim,  "they  are  the  four 
persons  who  personate  the  role  of  court  ladies  and  maids  of 
honor  to  the  queens  and  princesses.  They  beg  your  majesty 
to  secure  to  them  a  fixed  income." 

"  Indeed !  Go  to  my  writing-table  and  bring  paper  and 
pencil ;  I  will  dictate  a  reply  to  them,"  said  the  king.  "  Now 
write,  Von  Arnim:  'To  the  four  court  ladies  and  maids  of 
honor  of  the  opera :  You  are  mistaken  in  addressing  your- 
selves to  me ;  the  affair  of  your  salaries  concerns  your  em- 
perors and  kings.  To  them  you  must  address  yourselves. — 
Adieu.'" 

Von  Arnim  could  scarcely  repress  a  smile. 

"  Now  we  come  to  the  last  affair — the  salaries  and  pensions 
of  the  French  actors,"  said  the  king;  "but  first  tell  me  the 


THE  LONELY  KING*.  13 

news  in  Berlin — what  report  has  trumpeted  forth  in  the  last 
few  days." 

"Your  majesty,  the  latest  news  in  Berlin,  which  rumor 
brings  home  to  every  hearth-side  and  every  heart  is,  that  your 
majesty  has  declared  war  with  Austria  on  account  of  the 
Bavarian  succession.  Every  one  rejoices,  sire,  that  you  will 
humble  that  proud  and  supercilious  house  of  Austria,  and 
enter  the  lists  for  Germany." 

"  Listen !"  answered  the  king,  sternly.  "  I  did  not  ask  you 
to  blow  the  trumpet  of  praise,  as  if  your  honor,  inspector  of 
the  theatres,  thought  yourself  upon  the  stage,  and  would 
commence  a  comedy  with  the  king  of  lamps.  So  it  is  known 
then  that  my  soldiers  will  enter  the  great  theatre  of  war,  and 
that  we  are  about  to  fight  real  battles." 

"  It  is  known,  sire,"  replied  Von  Arnim,  bowing. 

"  Then  what  I  am  about  to  communicate  to  you  will  not 
surprise  you.  The  present  juncture  of  affairs  leads  us  to 
await  very  grave  scenes — we  can  well  dispense  with  comedy. 
I  withdraw  the  salaries  and  pensions  of  the  French  actors — • 
your  own  is  included.  After  you  have  dismissed  the  French 
comedians,  you  will  be  entirely  at  leisure  to  pursue  your  love- 
intrigues. — Farewell !" 

"  Your  majesty,"  cried  the  baron,  amazed,  "  has  your  high- 
ness dismissed  me?" 

"  Are  you  deaf,  or  have  you  some  of  the  cotton  in  your  ears 
which  I  presented  to  you  at  your  recall  from  Copenhagen?' 
replied  the  king.* 

"  Sire,  I  have  heard  all,  but  I  cannot  believe  it." 

"Yes,  yes,"  interrupted  the  king,  "To  believe  is  difficult; 

*  Baron  von  Arnim  was  ambassador  to  Copenhagen  until  1754,  when  he  begged  for 
his  recall,  stating  tbat  the  damp  climate  was  injurious  to  his  health.  The  king 
granted  his  request,  and  the  baron  returned  to  Berlin .  At  the  first  audience  with  the 
king,  Frederick  handed  Baron  von  Arnim  a  carefully-packed  box,  saying,  "  I  do  not 
wish  the  government  to  lose  so  valuable  a  servant;  in  this  box  you  will  find  something 
that  will  keep  you  warm."  Arnim  could  scarcely  await  his  return  home,  to  open  the 
box;  it  contained  nothing  but  cotton.  Some  days  afterward,  however,  the  king  in- 
creased Von  Arnim 's  income  a  thousand  dollars,  and  sent  him  ambassador  to  Dres- 
den. Von  Arnim  was  afterward  director  of  the  Royal  Theatre  until  dismissed  in  the 
above  manner. 


14  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

you,  I  presume,  never  belonged  to  the  pious  and  believing. 
Your  intrigues  would  not  admit  of  it ;  but  now  you  have  the 
leisure  to  pursue  them  with  a  right  good-will.  You  have 
only  to  discharge,  as  I  have  said,  the  entire  French  troupe, 
and  the  whole  thing  is  done  with. — Adieu,  Arnim,  may  you 
be  prospered!" 

Baron  von  Arnim  muttered  some  incomprehensible  words, 
and  retreated  from  the  royal  presence.  The  door  had  scarcely 
closed,  when  it  was  again  opened  without  ceremony  by  a  young 
man,  wearing  a  gold-laced  dress. 

"Your  majesty,"  said  he,  hastily,  in  an  undertone,  "your 
majesty,  she  has  just  gone  to  the  Palace  Park,  just  the  same 
hour  she  went  yesterday." 
'  "Is  she  alone?"  asked  the  king,  rising. 

"  No,  she  is  not  alone ;  at  a  little  distance  the  nurse  fol- 
lows with  the  princely  infant!" 

The  king  cast  an  angry  glance  at  the  saucy,  laughing  face 
of  the  young  man,  who  at  once  assumed  a  devoted,  earnest 
mien.  "  Has  your  majesty  any  further  commands?"  asked  he, 
timidly. 

"  I  command  you  to  hold  your  tongue  until  you  are  spoken 
to!"  replied  the  king,  harshly.  "You  understand  spying  and 
hanging  about,  as  you  have  good  ears,  a  quick  eye,  and  a  keen 
scent.  I  therefore  make  use  of  you,  because  I  need  a  spy; 
but,  understand  that  a  fellow  who  allows  himself  to  be  used 
as  a  spy,  is,  indeed,  a  useful  subject,  but  generally  a  worthless 
one,  and  to  whom  it  is  becoming  to  be  modest  and  humble. 
I  am  now  going  to  Berlin ;  you  will  accompany  me.  Take  off 
your  finery,  so  that  every  one  may  not  recognize  at  once  the 
peacock  by  his  feathers.  Go  to  the  taverns  and  listen  to  what 
they  say  about  the  war;  whether  the  people  are  much  dis- 
satisfied about  it.  Keep  your  great  ears  wide  open,  and  bring 
me  this  evening  all  the  latest  news.  Go,  now,  tell  my  coach- 
man to  be  ready;  in  half  an  hour  I  shall  set  off." 

The  young  man  slunk  away  to  the  door,  but  stood  without 
opening  it,  his  head  down,  and  his  under-lip  hanging  out. 


THE  LONELY  KING  15 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  king,  in  a  milder  tone, 
"why  do  you  not  go,  Kretzschmar?" 

"  I  cannot  go  away  if  your  majesty  is  angry  with  me,"  mut- 
tered the  servant,  insolently.  "  I  do  not  wish  to  hear  or  see 
any  thing  more  for  you  when  your  majesty  abuses  me,  and 
considers  me  such  a  mean,  base  fellow.  Your  majesty  first 
commanded  me  to  listen,  and  spy,  and  now  that  I  am  obey- 
ing, I  am  despised  and  scolded  for  it.  I  will  have  nothing 
more  to  do  with  it,  and  I  wish  your  majesty  to  leave  me  a 
simple  footman  rather  than  to  accord  me  such  a  mean 
position." 

"I  did  not  mean  so  badly,"  said  the  king.  "I  mean  well 
enough  for  you ;  but  you  must  not  permit  yourself  to  be  ar- 
rogant or  disrespectful,  otherwise  you  may  go  to  Tophet! 
You  are  no  common  spy,  you  are  listening  about  a  little  be- 
cause you  know  I  am  fond  of  hearing  what  the  people  are 
saying,  and  what  is  going  on  in  Berlin  and  Potsdam.  But 
take  care  that  they  know  nothing  about  it,  otherwise  they 
will  be  careful,  and  you  will  hear  nothing.  Now  be  off,  and 
in  order  to  see  a  cheerful  face  on  you,  I  will  make  you  a  pres- 
ent." The  king  drew  from  his  vest-pocket  a  purse,  well  filled 
with  small  coin,  and  gave  it  to  the  young  man,  who  took  it, 
though  he  still  looked  angry  and  insolent.  "  Do  not  let  your 
under-lip  hang  down  so,  for  I  may  step  upon  it,"  said  the 
king.  "  Put  the  money  in  your  pocket,  and  hurry  off  to  tell 
old  Pfund  to  harness  quickly,  or  I  shall  not  arrive  in  time  at 
the  park." 

"  There  is  no  danger,  your  majesty,  for  the  miss  seems  very 
fond  of  the  promenade ;  she  remained  two  hours  in  the  park 
yesterday,  always  walking  in  the  most  quiet  places,  as  if  she 
were  afraid  to  meet  any  one.  She  sat  a  whole  hour  on  the 
iron  seat  by  the  Carp  Pond,  and  then  she  went  to  the  Philos- 
opher's Walk,  and  skipped  about  like  a  young  colt." 

"  You  are  a  very  cunning  fellow,  and  know  how  to  use  your 
eyes  well,"  said  the  king.  "Now  be  off,  and  order  the  car- 
riage." 


16  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

CHAPTER    II. 

WILHELMINE      ENKE. 

THE  Palace  Park  was  as  quiet  and  deserted  as  usual.  Not 
a  voice,  not  a  sound,  disturbed  the  stillness  of  those  silent 
walks.  For  this  reason,  undoubtedly,  a  young  lady  had 
sought  it ;  at  least  her  whole  being  expressed  satisfaction  and 
delight  to  wander  unobserved  through  those  quiet,  shady 
alleys.  She  was  of  slight  and  elegant  proportions,  simply  at- 
tired, without  pretension,  in  a  dark  dress  of  some  thin  silk 
material.  Her  black  silk  mantle  was  thrown  aside  upon  the 
stone  seat  near  her,  uncovering  thus,  in  solitude,  to  the  sun 
and  birds,  her  lovely  neck  and  arms,  the  beauty  of  which 
might  rival  the  statues  of  the  ancients.  Her  face  was  not  of 
regular  beauty,  yet  it  possessed  that  expression  of  grace, 
spirit,  and  energy,  which  is  oftener  a  more  powerful  and  more 
enduring  charm  than  regular  beauty.  Her  large,  expressive 
black  eyes  possessed  a  wonderful  power,  and  her  red,  pouting 
lips  wore  a  sweet  smile ;  her  fine  Eoman  nose  lent  an  air  of 
decision,  whilst  her  high-arched  forehead  led  one  to  believe 
that  daring,  energetic  thought  lay  hidden  beneath  those  clus- 
ters of  brown  curls.  She  was  not  in  the  bloom  of  youth,  but 
at  twenty-five  she  appeared  younger  than  many  beauties  at 
eighteen ;  and  if  her  form  no  longer  possessed  the  charm  of 
girlhood,  it  was  attractive  from  its  suppleness  and  full,  beauti- 
ful bust. 

"Louisa,  Louisa,  where  are  you?"  cried  the  young  lady, 
stepping  quickly  forward  toward  a  side-path,  which  led  from 
the  broad  avenue,  and  at  the  end  of  which  was  a  sunny  grass- 
plot. 

"  Here  I  am,  miss;  I  am  coming." 

"Miss,"  murmured  the  young  lady,  "how  dreadfully  it 
sounds!  The  blush  of  shame  rises  to  my  face,  for  it  sounds 
like  bitter  mockery  and  contempt,  and  brings  my  whole  life 


WILHELMINE  ENKE.  17 

before  me.  Yet,  I  must  endure  it — and  I  scarcely  wish  it 
were  otherwise.  Ah,  there  you  are,  Louisa,  and  there  is  my 
beautiful  boy,"  she  cried,  with  a  glad  voice,  hastening  toward 
the  peasant-woman  and  bending  fondly  over  her  child.  "  How 
beautiful  and  how  knowing  he  looks !  It  seems  as  if  my  little 
Alexander  began  to  recognize  me — he  looks  so  earnest  and 
sensible." 

"He  knows  you,  miss,"  said  the  nurse,  courtesying,  "and 
he  knows,  like  other  children,  who  loves  him.  Children  and 
dogs  know  who  love  them.  The  children  cry,  and  the  dogs 
hide  themselves  when  people  are  around  who  dislike  them. " 

"Nonsense,  Louisa!"  laughed  the  young  lady,  as  she  bent 
to  kiss  her  child — "  nonsense !  did  not  my  little  boy  cry  when 
his  father  took  him  yesterday?  And  he  loves  his  child  most 
tenderly,  as  only  a  father  can." 

"  Oh,  there  is  another  reason  for  that,"  said  the  nurse. 
"  He  has  just  passed  his  first  stupid  three  months,  and  he  be- 
gins to  hear  and  see  what  passes  around  him,  and  it  was  the 
first  man's  face  that  he  had  seen.  But  only  look,  miss,  what 
a  beautiful  little  dog  is  coming  up  the  path."  It  was  indeed 
a  lovely  greyhound,  of  the  small  Italian  race,  which  came 
bounding  joyfully  toward  them,  and  as  he  saw  the  woman 
barked  loudly. 

"  Be  quiet,  Alkmene,  be  quiet!"  cried  a  loud,  commanding 
voice. 

"Oh,  Heaven!  it  is  the  king!"  whispered  the  young  lady, 
turning  pale,  and,  as  if  stunned,  retreated  a  few  steps. 

"Yes,  it  is  really  the  king,"  cried  the  nurse,  "and  he  i? 
coming  directly  from  the  grass-plot  here." 

"  Let  us  go  as  quickly  as  possible,  Louisa.  Come,  come," 
and  she  hastily  threw  her  mantle  around  her,  drawing  the  hood 
over  her  curly  head.  She  had  only  proceeded  a  few  steps,  when 
a  loud  voice  bade  her  to  remain — to  stand  still.  She  stood  as 
if  rooted  to  the  spot,  leaning  upon  her  nurse  for  support;  her 
knees  sank  under  her,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole  world 
turned  around  with  her.  After  the  first  tumult  of  anxiety 


18  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

and  fear,  succeeded  an  insolent  determination,  and,  forcing 
herself  to  calmness,  she  said :  "  It  is  the  turning-point  of  my 
life ;  the  next  few  minutes  will  either  crush  me  or  assure  my 
future;  let  me  struggle  for  the  future,  then.  I  will  face  him 
who  approaches  me  as  my  judge. "  Forcing  herself  to  com- 
posure, slowly  and  with  effort  she  turned  toward  the  king, 
who,  approaching  by  the  side  path,  had  entered  the  avenue, 
and  now  stood  before  her.  But  as  she  encountered  the  fiery 
glance  of  the  king's  eye,  she  quailed'  before  it,  casting  down 
her  own,  covered  with  confusion. 

"  Who  are  you?"  demanded  the  king,  with  stern  authority, 
keeping  his  eagle  eye  fixed  upon  her.  Silent  and  immovable 
she  stood;  only  the  quick,  feverish  breathing  and  the  heaving 
bosom  told  the  storm  that  was  raging  within. 

"Who  are  you?"  repeated  the  voice,  with  still  more  sever- 
ity— "who  permit  themselves  to  use  my  park  as  a  nursery? 
What  child  is  that?  and  who  are  its  parents?  They  should 
be  of  high  position  at  court,  who  would  dare  to  send  their 
child  and  nurse  to  the  royal  park ;  and  with  what  joy  they 
must  regard  the  offspring  of  their  conjugal  tenderness!  Tell 
me  to  whom  does  this  child  belong?" 

Sobbing  convulsively,  the  lady  sank,  kneeling,  with  uplifted 
arms,  imploring  for  mercy.  "  Sire,  annihilate  me  with  your 
anger,  but  do  not  crush  me  with  your  scorn!" 

"What  language  do  you  permit  yourself  to  hold?"  asked 
the  king. 

"  Sire,  it  is  the  language  of  an  unhappy,  despairing  woman, 
who  knows  that  she  stands  before  that  great  monarch  whose 
judgment  she  fears  more  than  that  of  her  God,  who  sees  into 
her  heart,  and  reads  the  tortures  and  reproaches  of  her  con- 
science; who  knows  what  she  suffers,  and  knows,  also,  that 
she  is  free  from  self-interest,  and  every  base  desire.  I  believe 
that  God  will  forgive  what  I  fear  your  majesty  will  not." 

"  You  speak  presumptuously,  and  remind  me  of  the  theatre 
princesses  who  represent  a  grand  scene  with  a  pathetic  exit. 
Let  me  inform  you,  I  despise  comedians — only  high  tragedy 


WILHELMINE  ENKE.  19 

pleases  me.  Spare  yourself  the  trouble  to  act  before  me,  but 
answer  me — who  are  you?  Whose  child  is  that?" 

"  Sire,  only  Gk>d  and  my  king  should  hear  my  reply — I  beg 
the  favor  to  send  away  the  nurse  and  child."  The  king  as- 
sented, slightly  nodding  his  head,  at  the  same  time  bidding 
her  not  to  kneel  to  him  as  to  an  image. 

The  lady  rose  and  sought  the  nurse,  who,  from  fright,  had 
withdrawn  into  the  shrubbery,  and  stood  staring  at  the  king 
with  wide-open  eyes.  "  Go  home,  Louisa,  and  put  the  child 
to  sleep,"  said  she,  quickly. 

The  nurse  obeyed  promptly,  and  when  alone,  the  king  de- 
manded again,  "Who  are  you?  and  to  whom  does  the  child 
belong?" 

"  Your  majesty,  I  am  the  daughter  of  your  chapel  musician 
Enke,  and  the  child  is  the  son  of  Prince  Frederick  William 
of  Prussia,"  she  replied,  in  a  firm  and  defiant  manner. 

The  king's  eyes  flashed  as  he  glanced  at  the  bold  speaker. 
"You  say  so,  but  who  vouches  for  the  truth  of  it?  You  per- 
mit yourself  to  use  a  high  name,  to  give  your  child  an  honor- 
able father !  What  temerity !  what  presumption !  What  if  I 
should  not  believe  you,  but  send  you  to  the  house  of  correc- 
tion, at  Spandau,  as  a  slanderer,  as  guilty  of  high-treason,  as 
a  sinner  and  an  adulteress?" 

"You  could  not  do  it,  sire — you  could  not,"  cried  Wilhel- 
mine  Enke,  "  for  you  would  also  send  there  the  honor  and  the 
name  of  your  successor  to  the  throne." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  cried  the  king,  furiously. 

"  I  mean,  your  majesty,  that  the  prince  has  holy  duties 
toward  me.  I  am  the  mother  of  that  child!" 

"  You  acknowledge  your  shame,  and  you.  dare  confess  it  to 
me,  your  king,  that  you  are  the  favorite,  the  kept  mistress  of 
the  Prince  of  Prussia,  who  has  already  a  wife  that  has  borne 
him  children?  You  do  not  even  seek  to  deny  it,  or  to  excuse 
yourself?" 

"  I  would  try  to  excuse  myself,  did  I  not  feel  that  your 
majesty  would  not  listen  to  me." 


20  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"What  excuse  could  you  offer? — there  is  none." 

"Love  is  my  excuse,"  cried  Wilhelmine,  eagerly.  "Oh! 
my  ruler  and  king,  do  not  shake  your  noble  head  so  unbeliev- 
ingly; do  not  look  at  me  so  contemptuously.  Oh,  Father  in 
heaven,  I  implore  Thee  to  quicken  my  mind,  that  my  thoughts 
may  become  words,  and  my  lips  utter  that  which  is  burning 
in  my  soul !  In  all  these  years  of  my  poor,  despised,  obscure 
life,  how  often  have  I  longed  for  this  hour  when  I  might 
stand  before  my  king,  when  I  might  penitently  clasp  his  knees 
and  implore  mercy  for  myself  and  my  children — those  poor, 
nameless  beings,  whose  existence  is  my  accusation,  and  yet 
who  are  the  pride  and  joy  of  my  life!  Oh,  sire,  I  will  not  ac- 
cuse, to  excuse  myself;  I  will  not  cast  the  stone  at  others 
which  they  have  cast  at  me.  But  it  is  scarcely  charitable  to 
judge  and  condemn  a  young  girl  fourteen  years  of  age,  who 
did  but  obey  the  command  of  her  parents,  and  followed  the 
man  who  was  the  first  and  only  one  that  ever  whispered  the 
word  of  love  in  her  ear." 

"  I  have  heard  that  your  parents  sold  their  child  to  shame. 
Is  it  true?"  cried  the  king. 

"  Sire,  my  father  was  poor ;  the  scanty  income  of  a  chapel 
musician  scarcely  sufficed  to  educate  and  support  four  chil- 
dren. The  prince  promised  my  father  to  educate  me." 

"  Bah !  The  promises  of  a  young  man  of  twenty-five  are 
made  without  reflection,  and  rarely  ever  fulfilled." 

"  Sire,  to  the  Prince  of  Prussia  I  owe  all  that  I  know,  and 
all  that  I  am;  his  promise  to  my  dying  father  was  fully 
redeemed. " 

"  Indeed,  by  whom  were  you  taught,  and  what  have  yon 
learned?" 

"  Your  majesty,  the  prince  wished,  before  all,  that  I  should 
^earn  to  speak  French.  Madame  Girard  was  my  French  in- 
structress, and  taught  me  to  play  the  guitar  and  spinet  also." 

"  Oh,  I  presume  you  have  learned  to  jabber  a  little  French 
and  drum  a  little  music,"  said  the  king,  shrugging  his 
shoulders. 


;WILHELMINE  ENKE.  21 

"  I  beg  pardon,  sire ;  I  have  a  tolerable  knowledge  of  his- 
tory and  of  geography.  I  am  familiar  with  the  ancient  and 
modern  poets.  I  have  read  a  good  French  translation  of  Ho- 
mer, Horace,  and  Virgil,  with  a  master.  I  have  studied  the  his- 
tory of  Brandenburg,  of  Germany,  and  of  America.  We  have 
read  the  immortal  works  of  Voltaire,  of  Jean  Jacques  Rous- 
seau, and  of  Shakespeare,  with  many  of  our  modern  poets. 
My  instructor  has  read  all  these  works  aloud  to  me,  and  he 
was  much  pleased  when  I  repeated  parts  of  what  he  had  read 
to  me  some  days  afterward." 

"You  appear  to  have  had  a  very  learned  instructor,"  re- 
marked the  king,  sneeringly.  "What  is  his  name?" 

"  His  name,  sire,  is  Prince  Frederick  William  of  Prussia. 
Yes,  it  is  he  who  has  taught  me — he  who  has  made  me  an  in- 
telligent woman.  However  young  he  was  when  he  undertook 
the  task,  he  has  accomplished  it  with  fidelity,  firmness,  and 
patience.  He  loved  me,  and  would  make  me  worthy  of  him, 
in  heart  and  mind.  I  shall  ever  be  grateful  to  him,  and  only 
death  can  extinguish  the  love  and  esteem  with  which  he  in- 
spires me." 

"  Suppose  I  command  you  to  leave  the  prince?  Suppose  I 
will  no  longer  endure  the  scandal  of  this  sinful  relation?" 

"  I  shall  never  willingly  separate  myself  from  my  dear  prince 
and  master — from  the  father  of  my  two  children.  Your 
majesty  will  be  obliged  to  force  me  from  him,"  answered  Wil- 
helmine,  defiantly. 

"Oh,  that  will  not  be  necessary,  mademoiselle,"  cried  the 
king.  "  There  are  ways  enough.  I  will  make  known  my 
wishes  to  the  prince ;  I  will  command  him  to  leave  you,  and 
have  no  further  communication  with  you." 

"Sire,"  she  answered,  gently,  "I  know  that  the  prince  is 
•n  obedient  and  respectful  subject  and  servant  to  his  king  in 
all  things,  but  this  command  he  would  not  obey." 

"  He  would  not  dare  to  brave  my  commands!" 

"He  would  not  brave  them,  sire.  Oh,  no;  it  would  be 
limply  impossible  to  obey  them." 


OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  What  would  hinder  him?" 

"  Love,  sire ;  the  respect  which  he  owes  to  me  as  the  mother 
of  his  two  children — who  has  consecrated  her  love,  her  honor 
to  him,  and  of  whom  no  one  can  say  that  she  has  injured  the 
fidelity  which  she  has  sworn  to  the  prince — to  the  man  of  her 
first  and  only  love — even  with  a  word  or  look." 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  I  cannot  separate  you  from  the 
prince  but  by  force?" 

"Yes,  your  majesty,"  cried  she,  with  conscious  power, 
"that  is  exactly  what  I  mean." 

"You  will  find  yourself  deceived;  you  will  be  made  to 
realize  it,"  said  the  king,  with  a  menacing  tone.  "  You  know 
nothing  of  the  power  that  lies  in  a  legitimate  marriage,  and 
what  rivals  legitimate  children  are,  whom  one  dares  acknowl- 
edge before  God — before  the  world.  Boast  not  of  the  love  of 
the  prince,  but  remember  that  an  honorable  solitude  is  the 
only  situation  becoming  to  you.  Such  connections  bear  their 
own  curse  and  punishment  with  them.  Hasten  to  avoid 
them.  Lastly,  I  would  add,  never  dare  to  mingle  your  im- 
pure hands  in  the  affairs  of  state.  I  have  been  obliged  to  give 
the  order  to  the  state  councillors  in  appointments  and  grants 
of  office,  not  to  regard  the  protection  and  recommendation  of 
a  certain  high  personage,  as  you  are  the  real  protectress  and 
bestower  of  mercy.  Take  care,  and  never  let  it  happen  again, 
You  will  never  venture  to  play  the  little  Pompadour  here,  nor 
anything  else  but  what  your  dishonor  allows  you ;  otherwise 
you  will  have  to  deal  with  me !  You  say  that  you  have  read 
Homer;  then,  doubtless,  you  remember  the  story  of  Penelope, 
who,  from  conjugal  fidelity,  spun  and  wove,  undoing  at  nigLf 
what  she  had  woven  by  day.  It  is  true,  you  bear  little  reseni^ 
blance  to  this  chaste  dame,  but  you  might  emulate  her  in. 
spinning  and  weaving;  and  if  you  are  not  in  future  retiring, 
I  can  easily  make  a  modern  Penelope  of  you,  and  have  you 
instructed  in  spinning,  for  which  you  will  have  the  best  of 
opportunities  in  the  house  of  correction  at  Spandau.  Ee- 
member  this,  and  never  permit  yourself  to  practise  protection. 


WILHELMINE  ENKE.  23 

I  will  keep  the  spinning-wheel  and  the  wool  ready  for  you ; 
that  you  may  count  upon.  Eemember,  also,  that  it  is  very 
disagreeable  to  me  that  you  visit  my  park,  as  I  like  to  breathe 
pure  air.  Direct  your  promenade  elsewhere,  and  avoid  meet- 
ing me  in  future." 

"  Your  majesty,  I — " 

"Silence!  I  have  heard  sufficient.  You  have  nothing 
more  to  say  to  me.  Go,  hide  your  head,  that  no  one  may 
rcognize  your  shame,  or  the  levity  of  the  prince.  Go — and, 
Aarewell  forever!"  He  motioned  impatiently  to  her  to  retire, 
fastening  his  eyes  with  a  fiery,  penetrating  glance  upon  her 
(jaie,  agitated  face,  her  bowed,  humble  attitude,  and  still  con- 
tinued to  regard  her  as  she  painfully  dragged  herself  down 
the  walk,  as  if  her  limbs  were  giving  way  under  her.  Long 
stood  the  king  gazing  after  her,  resting  upon  his  staff;  and 
as  she  disappeared  at  the  end  of  the  walk,  he  still  stood  there 
immovable.  By  degrees  his  face  assumed  a  milder  expression. 
"He  who  is  free  from  sin,  let  him  cast  the  first  stone  at  her," 
said  the  king,  softened,  as  he  slowly  turned  down  the  path 
which  would  lead  to  his  carriage,  waiting  outside  the  park. 

Frederick  was  lost  in  thought,  and  addressed  no  conver- 
sation to  the  equerry,  Von  Schwerin,  who  sat  opposite  to  him. 
But  as  they  drove  through  the  beautiful  street  Unten  den 
Linden,  at  Berlin,  Frederick  glanced  at  the  equerry,  and 
found  that  he  had  fallen  asleep,  wearied  with  the  long  silence 
and  the  monotony  of  the  drive.  The  king  spoke  to  Alkmene, 
loud  and  earnestly,  until  Herr  von  Schwerin,  awakened  and 
startled,  glanced  at  the  king,  frightened,  and  trying  to  dis- 
cover whether  his  fearful  crime  against  etiquette  would  draw 
upon  him  the  royal  censure.  Frederick,  however,  appeared 
not  to  notice  his  fright,  and  spoke  kindly  to  him :  "  Did  you 
not  tell  me,  Schwerin,  that  Count  Schmettau  would  sell  his 
country  residence  at  Charlottenburg?" 

"  At  your  service,  your  majesty,  he  asked  me  to  purchase 
it,  or  find  him  a  purchaser." 

"How  much  is  it  worth?" 


24  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"Sire,  Count  Schmettau  demands  eight  thousand  dollars 
for  it.  There  is  a  beautiful  park  belonging  to  it,  and  the 
house  is  worthy  the  name  of  a  castle,  so  large  is  it." 

"  Why  do  you  not  buy  it,  if  the  count  offered  it  to  you?" 

The  equerry  assumed  a  sad  mien,  and  answered,  sighing : 
"  Sire,  I  should  be  the  happiest  of  men  if  I  could  buy  that 
charming  residence,  and  it  would  be  a  real  blessing  to  me  if  I 
could  enjoy  in  summer  at  times  the  fresh  air.  My  finances 
unfortunately,  do  not  allow  such  expenses,  as  I  am  not  rich, 
and  have  a  large  family." 

"Then  you  are  right  not  to  spend  money  unnecessarily," 
said  the  king,  quietly.  "  You  can  have  as  much  fresh  air  at 
Potsdam  as  can  ever  enter  your  mouth,  and  it  costs  neither 
you  nor  I  any  thing.  Say  to  Count  Schmettau  that  you  have 
a  purchaser  for  his  residence  at  Charlottenburg. " 

"  Oh,  you  are  really  too  kind,"  cried  the  equerry,-  in  an 
excitement  of  joy;  "  I  do  not  know — " 

Here  the  carriage  entered  the  palace  court,  and  the  con- 
cluding words  were  inaudible.  Herr  von  Schwerin  alighted 
quickly  to  assist  the  king.  "  Say  to  Schmettau  to  present 
himself  to  my  treasurer  and  cabinet  councillor,  Menkon,  to- 
morrow morning  at  twelve  o'clock,  at  Sans-Souci." 

The  king  nodded  kindly  to  the  equerry,  and  passed  into 
the  Swiss  saloon,  and  farther  on  into  the  private  rooms  which 
he  was  accustomed  to  occupy  whenever  he  remained  at  the  cap- 
ital. The  Swiss  saloon  was  fast  filling,  not  alone  with  the  gen- 
erals and  staff-officers  of  the  Berlin  garrison,  but  with  the 
officers  of  the  regiments  from  the  provinces,  who  presented 
themselves  at  the  palace  according  to  the  order  of  the  king. 
The  most  of  them  were  old  and  worn  out,  body  and  mind. 
They  all  looked  morose  and  sorrowful.  The  great  news  of  the 
approaching  war  with  Austria  had  spread  through  the  mili- 
tary. The  old  laurel-crowned  generals  of  the  Seven  Years' 
War  were  unwilling  to  go  forth  to  earn  new  laurels,  for  which 
they  had  lost  all  ambition.  Not  one  dared  betray  his  secret 
thoughts  to  another,  or  utter  a  word  of  disapproval.  The 


WILHELMINE  ENKE.  25 

king's  spies  were  everywhere,  and  none  could  trust  himself  to 
converse  with  his  neighbor,  as  he  might  prove  to  be  one  of 
them.  There  reigned  an  anxious,  oppressive  silence;  the 
generals  and  staff-officers  exchanged  the  ordinary  greetings. 
All  eyes  were  turned  toward  the  door  through  which  the  king 
would  enter,  bowed  down,  like  his  generals,  with  the  cares  of 
life,  and  the  burden  of  old  age.  The  king  slowly  entered. 
He  was,  indeed,  an  old  man,  like  those  he  came  amongst,  and 
now  saluted.  An  expression  of  imperishable  youth  lighted 
up  his  pale,  sunken  face,  and  his  eyes  flashed  with  as  much 
daring  and  fire  as  thirty-eight  years  before,  when  he  had  as- 
sembled his  young  officers  around  him  in  this  very  hall,  to 
announce  to  them  that  he  would  march  against  Austria. 
How  many  wars,  how  many  battles,  how  many  illusions,  vic- 
tories, and  defeats  had  the  king  experienced  in  these  thirty- 
eight  years!  How  little  the  youthful,  fiery  king  of  that  day 
resembled  the  weak  old  man  of  to-day ;  how  little  in  common 
the  young  King  Frederick  had  with  "  Alten  Fritz."  And  now 
in  this  feeble  body  dwelt  the  same  courageous  spirit.  In  the 
course  of  these  years  King  Frederick  II.  had  become  Freder- 
ick the  Great!  And  great  he  was  to-day,  this  little  old 
man — great  in  his  intentions  and  achievements,  never  heed- 
ing his  own  debility  and  need  of  repose.  All  his  thoughts 
and  endeavors  concentrated  on  the  welfare  of  his  people  and 
his  country — on  the  greatness  and  glory  of  Germany.  Those 
eyes  which  now  glanced  over  the  circle  of  generals  were  still 
flashing  as  those  of  the  hero-king  whose  look  had  disarmed 
the  lurking  assassin,  and  confounded  the  distinguished  savant 
in  the  midst  of  his  eloquence,  so  that  he  stammered  and  was 
silent.  He  was  still  Frederick  the  Great,  who,  leaning  upon 
his  staff,  was  surrounded  by  his  generals,  whom  he  called  to 
fight  for  their  fatherland,  for  Germany ! 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  king,  "  I  have  called  you  together  to 

announce  to  you  that  we  must  go  forth  to  new  wars,  and, 

God  willing,  to  new  victories.     The  Emperor  of  Austria  forces 

me  to  it,  for,  against  all  laws  and  customs,  and  against  all 

3 


26  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

rights  of  kingdoms,  he  thinks  to  bring  German  territory  into 
the  possession  of  the  house  of  Hapsburg.  Charles  Theodore, 
prince-elector,  having  no  children,  has  concluded  a  treaty 
with  the  Emperor  Joseph,  that  at  his  death  the  electorate  of 
Bavaria  will  fall  to  Austria.  In  consequence  thereof  an  Aus- 
trian army  has  marched  into  Bavaria,  and  garrisoned  the 
frontier. — The  prince-elector,  Duke  Charles  Theodore,  was  not 
authorized  to  proceed  thus,  for,  though  he  had  no  children 
to  succeed  him,  he  had  a  lawful  successor  in  his  brother's  son, 
Duke  Charles  von  Zweibriicken.  Electoral  Saxony  and  Meck- 
lenburg have  well-founded  pretensions,  even  if  Zweibriicken 
were  not  existing.  All  these  princes  have  addressed  them- 
selves to  me,  and  requested  me  to  represent  them  to  the  em- 
peror and  to  the  imperial  government — to  protect  them  in 
their  injured  rights.  I  have  first  tried  kindness  and  per- 
suasion to  bring  back  Austria  from  her  desire  of  aggrandize- 
ment, but  in  Vienna  they  have  repulsed  every  means  of 
peaceable  arbitration.  I,  as  one  of  the  rulers  of  the  empire 
(and  as  I  have  reaffirmed  the  Westphalian  treaty  through  the 
Hubertsburger  treaty),  feel  bound  to  preserve  the  privileges, 
the  rights,  the  liberty  of  the  German  states.  I  have  therefore 
well  reflected,  and  decided  to  draw  the  sword — that  what  the 
diplomats  have  failed  to  arrange  with  the  pen  should  be  set- 
tled with  the  sword.  These  are  my  reasons,  gentlemen,  which 
make  it  my  duty  to  assemble  an  army ;  therefore  I  have  called 
you  together."  His  fiery  eyes  flashed  around  the  circle,  peer- 
ing into  the  thin,  withered  faces  of  his  generals,  and  en- 
countering everywhere  a  grave,  earnest  mien. 

The  king  repressed  with  an  effort  a  sigh;  then  continued, 
with  a  mild  voice :  "  My  feeble  old  age  does  not  allow  me  to 
travel  as  in  my  fiery  youth.  I  shall  use  a  post-carriage,  and 
you,  gentlemen,  have  the  liberty  to  do  the  same.  On  the  day 
of  battle  you  will  find  me  mounted ;  you  will  follow  my  ex- 
ample. Until  then,  farewell!"  * 

"Long  live  the  king!"  cried  General  von  Krokow;  and  all 

*The  king's  words.— See  "  Prussia,  Frederick  the  Great,11  vol.  iii. 


FREDERICK   WILLIAM.  27 

the  generals  who  formerly  joined  in  this  cry  of  the  Prussian 
warrior,  now  repeated  it  in  weak,  trembling  tones.  Frederick 
smiled  a  recognition,  bowing  on  all  sides,  then  turned  slowly 
away,  leaning  upon  his  staff. 

When  once  more  alone,  the  youthful  expression  faded  from 
his  eyes,  and  the  gloomy  shadows  of  old  age  settled  down 
upon  his  thoughtful  brow.  "  They  have  all  grown  old  and 
morose,"  said  he,  mildly,  "they  will  not  show  any  more  hero- 
ism; the  fire  of  ambition  is  quenched  in  their  souls!  A  warm 
stove  must  warm  their  old  limbs.  Oh !  it  is  a  pitiful  thing 
to  grow  old;  and  still  they  call  themselves  the  images  of  God! 
Poor  boasters,  who,  with  a  breath  of  the  Almighty,  are  over- 
turned and  bent  as  a  blade  of  grass  in  the  sand!" 

"  Your  majesty,  may  I  come  in?"  asked  a  gentle,  happy 
child's  voice. 

The  king  turned  hastily  toward  the  door,  so  softly  opened, 
and  there  stood  a  charming  little  boy,  in  the  uniform  of  a 
flag-bearer,  with  the  cap  upon  his  head,  and  a  neat  little 
sword  by  his  side.  "Yes,  you  may  enter,"  nodded  the  king 
kindly  to  him.  "You  know  I  sent  for  you,  my  little  flag- 
bearer." 


CHAPTER    III. 

FREDERICK     WILLIAM. 

THE  little  flag-bearer  skipped  into  the  room  with  graceful 
vivacity,  and  sprang,  with  a  merry  bound,  up  to  the  king, 
took  his  hand  without  ceremony,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 
Then,  raising  up  his  head  and  shaking  back  his  light-brown 
curls  from  his  rosy  cheeks,  his  bright-blue  eyes  sparkling,  he 
looked  him  full  in  the  face.  "  Your  majesty,  you  say  that 
you  sent  for  me ;  but  I  must  tell  you  that  if  you  had  not  sent 
for  me  I  would  have  come  here  alone,  and  begged  so  long  at 
the  door,  that  vou  would  have  let  me  come  in!" 


28  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"And  what  if  I  would  not  have  let  you  come  in  at  all?" 
said  the  king,  smiling. 

The  little  flag-bearer  reflected  a  moment,  then  answered 
with  a  confident  air :  "  Your  majesty,  I  would  have  forced 
open  the  door,  thrown  myself  at  your  feet,  and  kissed  your 
hand,  saying,  'My  king,  my  dear  great-uncle,  I  must  come 
in  to  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  the  flag-bearer's  com- 
mission you  have  sent  me,  and  for  the  beautiful  uniform.' 
Then  I  would  see  if  your  majesty  had  the  courage  to  send  me 
away." 

"  Let  me  see,  my  prince — do  you  think  my  courage  could 
fail  me  upon  any  occasion?" 

"Yes,  in  bad  things,"  zealously  cried  the  prince,  "and  it 
would  be  bad  if  you  would  not  let  me  thank  you.  I  am  so 
happy  with  the  commission  and  the  beautiful  uniform  which 
you  so  graciously  sent  to  me !  Tell  me,  your  majesty,  do  I 
not  look  beautifully?"  The  boy  straightened  his  elegant, 
slender  form,  and  saluted  the  king,  putting  the  two  fingers  of 
his  right  hand  upon  his  cap. 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Frederick,  "you  look  very  nicely,  my 
prince;  but  it  is  not  enough  that  you  look  well — you  must 
behave  well.  From  a  flag-bearer  in  my  army  I  expect  very 
different  things  than  from  any  common  child.  Who  wears 
my  uniform  must  prove  himself  worthy  of  the  honor." 

"Your  majesty,"  cried  the  prince,  "  I  assure  you,  upon  my 
word  of  honor,  that  I  have  no  bad  marks  when  I  wear  thd 
uniform.  Your  majesty  can  ask  my  tutor.  He  came  with 
me,  and  waits  in  the  anteroom  to  speak  with  you.  He  will 
tell  you  that  I  have  a  good  report." 

"Very  well,  we  will  call  him  presently,"  said  Frederick, 
smiling.  "Now  we  will  chat  a  little  together.  Tell  me 
whether  you  are  very  industrious,  and  if  you  are  learning 
anything  of  consequence?" 

"  Sire,  I  must  learn,  even  if  I  had  no  inclination  to ;  Herr 
Behnisch  leaves  me  no  peace.  I  have  scarcely  time  to  play.  1 
am  always  learning  to  read,  to  write,  to  cipher,  and  to  work." 


FREDERICK    WILLIAM.  29 

"How  about  the  geography  and  universal  history?" 

"Oh,  your  majesty,  I  wish  there  were  no  geography  and 
history  in  the  world,  and  then  I  should  not  have  to  study  so 
cruelly  hard,  and  I  could  play  more.  My  mother  sent  me  last 
week  a  new  battledore  and  shuttlecock,  but  I  can  never  learn 
to  play  with  it.  I  no  sooner  begin,  than  Herr  Behnisch  calls 
me  to  study.  To-day  I  was  very  cunning — oh,  I  was  so  sly! 
I  put  it  in  the  great-pocket  of  my  tutor's  coat,  and  he  brought 
it  here  without  knowing  it." 

"  That  was  very  naughty,"  said  the  king,  a  little  severely. 

The  prince  colored,  and,  a  little  frightened,  said :  "  Sire, 
I  could  not  bring  it  any  other  way.  I  beg  pardon,  the  uni- 
form is  so  tight,  and  then — then,  I  thought  it  would  be  dis- 
Lonoring  it  to,  put  a  shuttlecock  in  the  cartridge-box." 

"  That  was  a  good  thought,  prince,  and  for  that  I  will  for- 
give you  the  trick  upon  your  tutor.  But  what  will  you  do 
with  the  ball  here?  Why  did  you  bring  it?" 

"  Oh,  I  wished  to  show  it  to  your  majesty,  it  is  so  beauti- 
ful, and  then  beg  you  to  let  me  play  a  little." 

"We  will  see,  Fritz,"  said  the  king,  much  pleased.  "If 
you  deserve  it,  that  shall  be  your  reward.  Tell  me  the  truth, 
is  your  tutor  satisfied  with  you  ?" 

"  Sire,  Herr  Behnisch  is  never  really  pleased,  but  he  has 
not  scolded  me  much  lately,  so  I  must  have  been  pretty  good. 
One  day  he  wrote  'Bien'  under  my  French  exercise.  Oh,  I 
was  so  happy  that  I  spent  six  groschen  of  the  thaler  my  father 
gave  me  a  little  while  since,  and  bought  two  pots  of  gilly- 
flowers, one  for  myself  and  one  for  my  little  brother  Henry, 
that  he  should  have  a  souvenir  of  my  'Bien!' ' 

"That  was  right,"  said  the  king,  nodding  approvingly. 
"  When  you  are  good,  you  must  always  let  your  friends  and 
relations  take  part  in  it;  keep  the  bad  only  for  yourself." 

"  I  will  remember  that,  and  I  thank  you  for  the  kind 
instruction." 

"  The  studies  seem  to  go  very  well,  but  how  is  it  with  the 
behavior?  They  tell  me  that  the  prince  is  not  always  polite 


30  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

to  his  visitors ;  that  he  is  sometimes  very  rude,  even  to  the 
officers  who  pay  their  respects  to  him  on  his  father's  account, 
and  on  my  account,  not  on  his  own,  for  what  do  they  care  for 
such  a  little  snip  as  he?  They  go  to  honor  Prince  Frederick 
William  of  Prussia,  though  he  is  only  a  little  flag-bearer. 
They  tell  me  that  you  do  not  appreciate  the  honor,  but  that 
at  Easter  you  behaved  very  badly." 

"Sire,  it  is  true;  I  cannot  deny  it — I  did  behave  badly," 
sighed  the  little  prince. 

"What  was  the  matter?"  asked  the  king.  "It  was  not 
from  fear,  I  hope?  I  should  be  very  angry  at  that.  Tell  me 
vourself,  and  tell  me  the  truth." 

"Your  majesty  can  depend  upon  the  whole  truth.  My 
tutor  says  that  lying  is  despicable,  and  that  a  prince  who  will 
one  day  be  a  king  should  be  too  proud  to  tell  a  lie !  I  will 
tell  you  all  about  it.  The  officers  came  to  see  me  at  Easter, 
just  as  I  had  put  the  Easter  eggs  in  the  garden,  for  my  little 
brother  and  some  other  boys  whom  I  had  invited  to  hunt  for 
them.  I  had  spent  my  last  six  groschen  for  the  eggs,  and  I 
anticipated  so  much  pleasure  with  the  hide-and-seek  for  them. 
We  had  just  begun,  when  the  officers  came. " 

"That  was  really  unfortunate,"  said  the  king,  sympathiz- 
ing^- 

"  Yes,  sire,  very  disagreeable,  and  I  could  not  possibly  feel 
Kindly.  While  the  officers  were  talking,  I  was  always  wishing 
they  would  go.  But  they  stayed  and  stayed — and  when 
Major  von  Werder  began  to  make  a  long  speech  to  me,  and  I 
thought  there  was  no  end  to  it,  I  became  impatient  and 
furious — and — " 

"Why  do  you  hesitate?"  asked  the  king,  looking  tenderly 
at  the  frank,  glowing  face  of  the  boy.  "  What  happened?" 

"Something  dreadful,  sire!  I  could  not  keep  in  any 
longer.  The  major  kept  on  talking,  and  looked  at  me  so 
sharply,  I  could  not  help  making  an  abominable  face.  It  is 
unfortunately  true — I  ran  my  tongue  out  at  him — only  just  a 
little  bit — and  I  drew  it  back  in  ar  instant;  but  it  was  done, 


FREDERICK    WILLIAM.  31 

and  a  dreadful  scene  followed.  The  major  did  not  say  any 
thing,  my  tutor  was  red  as  fire,  and  I  was  thunderstruck !" 

"That  was  excessively  rude,  my  little  flag- bearer,"  cried 
the  king. 

The  young  prince  was  so  ashamed,  and  was  looking  down  so 
penitently,  that  he  did  not  see  the  smile  on  Frederick's  face, 
and  the  affectionate  look  with  which  he  regarded  the  youthful 
sinner. 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  deserve  to  be  imprisoned  fourteen 
days,  and  live  on  bread  and  water,  for  insubordination?" 

"  I  know  it  now,  sire.  I  beg  pardon  most  humbly,"  said 
the  prince,  with  quivering  voice  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 
"  I  have  been  punished  enough,  without  that.  Herr  Behnisch 
would  not  let  me  go  to  the  garden  again,  and  I  have  never 
seen  the  eggs  which  I  spent  my  last  groschen  for,  nor  the 
boys  whom  I  bad  invited.  I  was  made  to  stay  in  my  room  all 
Easter  week,  learn  twenty  Latin  words  every  day,  and  write 
three  pages  of  German  words  in  good  handwriting.  It  was 
a  hard  punishment,  but  I  knew  that  I  deserved  it,  and  did 
not  complain.  I  only  thought  that  I  would  do  better  in 
future." 

"  If  you  thought  so,  and  you  have  already  been  punished, 
we  will  say  no  more  about  it,"  said  the  king.  "  But  tell  me, 
how  did  you  get  on  at  Whitsuntide,  when  the  officers  paid 
you  their  respects  again?" 

"Your  majesty,"  answered  the  prince,  "it  was  a  great  deal 
better;  I  behaved  tolerably  well,  except  a  very  little  rudeness, 
which  was  not  so  bad  after  all.*  Herr  Behnisch  did  not 
punish  me ;  he  only  said,  another  time,  that  I  should  do  bet- 
ter, and  not  be  so  taciturn,  but  greet  the  gentlemen  in  a 
more  friendly  manner.  I  must  tell  you,  sire,  that  when  Herr 
Behnisch  does  not  scold,  it  is  a  sure  sign  that  I  have  behaved 
pretty  well;  and  this  time  he  did  not." 

"Fritz,  I  believe  you,"  said  the  king,  "and  you  shall  have 
the  reward  that  you  asked  for — stay  here  and  play  a  little 

•The  little  prince's  own  words.— See  "  Diary  of  Prince  Frederick  William,"  p.  18. 


32  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

while.  Go,  now,  and  call  your  tutor;  I  have  a  few  words  to 
say  to  him." 

The  little  prince  sprang  toward  the  door,  but  suddenly 
stopped,  embarrassed. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  king.  "  Why  do  you  not 
call  your  tutor?" 

"  Sire,  I  am  very  much  troubled.  Herr  Behnisch  will  be 
very  angry  when  you  tell  him  about  the  shuttlecock.  I  beg 
you  not  to  betray  me!" 

"Yes,  but  if  you  will  play  before  me,  you  must  get  the 
plaything  which  you  say  is  in  his  pocket." 

"Sire,  then  I  had  rather  not  play,"  cried  the  prince. 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  the  king,  "your  punishment  shall 
be,  to  take  the  plaything  as  cleverly  out  of  the  pocket  as  you 
put  it  in.  If  you  do  it  well,  then  I  will  say  nothing  about  it; 
but,  if  your  tutor  discovers  you,  then  you  must  submit  to  the 
storm.  It  lies  in  your  own  hands.  Whilst  I  am  conversing 
with  the  tutor,  try  your  luck.  Now  call  him  in." 

The  prince  obeyed  thoughtfully,  and  the  tutor  entered. 
He  stood  near  the  door,  and  made  the  three  prescribed  bows; 
then  he  waited  with  a  submissive  air  for  further  commands. 

The  king  was  sitting  opposite  the  door,  his  hands  folded 
upon  his  staff  and  his  chin  resting  upon  his  hands,  looking 
the  tutor  full  in  the  face.  Herr  Behnisch  bore  it  calmly ;  not 
a  feature  moved  in  his  angular,  wooden  face.  Near  the  tutor 
stood  the  little  prince,  his  graceful,  rosy,  childlike  face  ex- 
pressing eager  expectation. 

"Approach!"  said  the  king. 

Herr  Behnisch  stepped  forward  a  little,  and  remained 
standing.  The  prince  glided  noiselessly  after  him,  keeping 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  tails  of  the  flesh-colored  satin  coat  with 
which  the  tutor  had  adorned  himself  for  this  extraordinary 
occasion.  The  prince  smiled  as  he  saw  the  pocket  open  and 
the  feathers  of  the  shuttlecock  peeping  out.  He  stretched 
out  his  little  hand  and  crooked  his  fingers  to  seize  it. 

"Come  nearer,  Herr  Behnisch,"  said  Frederick,  who  had 


FREDERICK    WILLIAM.  33 

observed  the  movement  of  the  little  prince,  and  who  was  amused 
at  the  thought  of  keeping  him  in  suspense  a  little  longer. 

Herr  Behnisch  moved  forward,  and  the  prince,  frightened, 
remained  standing  with  outstretched  hand.  He  menaced  the 
king  with  a  glance  of  his  bright  blue  eyes.  Frederick  caught 
the  look,  smiled,  and  turned  to  the  tutor. 

"  I  believe  it  is  three  years  since  you  commenced  teaching 
the  little  prince?"  said  the  king. 

"At  your  service,  your  majesty,  since  1775." 

"A  tolerably  long  time,"  said  the  king — " long  enough  to 
make  a  savant  of  a  child  of  Nature.  You  have  been  faithful, 
and  I  am  satisfied.  The  copybooks  which  you  sent  me  ac- 
cording to  my  orders  are  satisfactory.  I  wished  to  acquaint 
you  myself  of  my  satisfaction,  therefore  I  sent  for  you." 

"Your  majesty  is  very  condescending,"  said  the  tutor,  and 
his  sharp,  angular  face  brightened  a  little.  "  I  am  very  happy 
in  the  gracious  satisfaction  of  your  royal  highness.  I  wished 
also  to  make  known  to  you  personally  my  wishes  in  regard  to 
the  petition  for  the  little  prince's  pocket-money ;  he  should 
learn  the  use  of  money." 

"  Very  well, "  said  the  king,  nodding  to  the  prince,  who 
stood  behind  the  tutor,  holding  up  triumphantly  the  shuttle- 
cock. 

Yet,  the  most  difficult  feat  remained  to  be  accomplished. 
The  battledoor  was  in  the  very  depths  of  the  pocket ;  only  the 
point  of  the  handle  was  visible. 

"Your  majesty,"  cried  Herr  Behnisch,  who  had  taken  the 
approving  exclamation  of  "very  well"  to  himself — "your 
majesty,  I  am  very  happy  that  you  have  the  grace  to  approve 
of  my  petition  for  pocket-money." 

"Yes,  I  think  it  well,"  said  the  king,  "that  the  prince 
should  learn  not  to  throw  money  out  of  the  window.  I  will 
send  you,  monthly,  for  the  prince,  two  Fredericks  d'or,  and, 
before  you  hand  it  over  to  him,  change  it  into  small  pieces, 
that  there  may  be  a  great  pile  of  it."  * 

*  The  king's  own  words.— See  "Confidential  Letters." 


34  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA, 

Just  at  that  moment  the  prince  tried  to  seize  the  battle- 
dobr.  Herr  Behnisch  felt  the  movement,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  turning  around,  when  Frederick  stopped  him,  by 
saying,  "  I  believe  it  is  time  to  commence  a  regular  course  of 
instruction  for  the  prince.  At  eight  years  of  age  the  educa- 
tion of  an  heir  to  the  throne  must  progress  rapidly,  and  be 
regulated  by  fixed  principles.  I  will  write  out  my  instruc- 
tions, that  you  may  always  have  them  before  you." 

"  It  will  be  my  most  earnest  endeavor  to  follow  your  maj- 
esty's commands  to  the  letter,"  answered  the  tutor,  who  saw 
not  the  little  prince,  with  beaming  face,  behind  him,  swing- 
ing the  battledoor  high  in  the  air. 

"  I  am  about  to  enter  upon  a  new  war ;  no  one  knows  if  he 
will  ever  return  from  a  campaign.  I  dare  not  spare  my  life, 
when  the  honor  and  fame  of  my  house  are  at  stake.  Our  life 
and  death,  however,  are  in  God's  hands.  Before  we  risk  our 
lives,  we  should  put  every  thing  in  order,  and  leave  nothing 
undone  which  it  is  our  duty  to  do.  I  will  write  my  instruc- 
tions to-day,  and  send  them  to  you.  Promise  me,  upon  your 
word  of  honor  as  a  man,  that  you  will  act  upon  them,  as  long 
as  you  are  tutor  to  Prince  Frederick  William,  even  if  I  should 
not  return  from  the  campaign." 

"I  promise  it  to  your  majesty,"  answered  the  tutor.  "I 
will,  in  all  things,  according  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  follow 
your  majesty's  instructions." 

"I  believe  you;  I  take  you  to  be  an  honorable  man,"  said 
the  king.  "  You  will  always  be  mindful  of  the  great  respon- 
sibility which  rests  upon  you,  as  you  have  a  prince  to  educate 
who  will  one  day  govern  a  kingdom,  and  upon  whom  the  weal 
and  woe  of  many  millions  are  dependent.  And  when  those 
millions  of  men  one  day  bless  the  king  whom  you  have  edu- 
cated, a  part  of  the  blessing  will  fall  upon  you ;  but  when 
they  curse  him,  so  falls  the  curse  likewise  upon  your  guilty 
head,  and  you  will  feel  the  weight  of  it,  though  you  may  be 
in  your  grave!  Be  mindful  of  this,  and  act  accordingly. 


FREDERICK    WILLIAM.  35 

.Now  you  may  depart.  I  will  write  the  instructions  im- 
mediately, so  that  you  may  receive  them  to-day." 

Herr  Behnisch  bowed,  backing  out  toward  the  door. 

"  One  thing  more,"  cried  the  king,  motioning  with  his  staff 
to  the  tutor.  "  In  order  that  you  may  ever  remember  our 
interview,  I  will  present  you  with  a  souvenir." 

He  opened  the  drawer  of  his  private  writing-table,  and  took 
out  a  gold  snuff-box,  with  his  initials  set  in  brilliants  upon 
the  cover;  handing  it  to  Herr  Behnisch,  he  motioned  him  to 
retire,  and  thus  spare  him  the  expression  of  his  gratitude. 

"Your  majesty,"  stammered  Herr  Behnisch,  with  tears  in 
his  eyes,  "  I — " 

"  You  are  an  honest  man,  and  so  long  as  you  remain  so, 
you  can  count  upon  me.  Adieu! — Now,"  said  the  king,  as 
the  door  closed,  "have  you  recovered  the  plaything?" 

"Here  it  is,  your  majesty,"  shouted  the  prince,  as  he  held 
up  triumphantly  the  battledoor  and  shuttlecock  high  in  the 
air. 

"You  deserve  your  reward,  and  you  shall  have  it.  You 
can  stay  with  me  and  play  with  it  here.  Take  care  and  not 
make  too  much  noise,  as  I  wish  to  write." 

The  king  now  seated  himself,  to  draw  up  the  instructions 
for  Herr  Behnisch.  While  he  was  thus  occupied,  the  little 
prince  tossed  his  shuttlecock,  springing  lightly  after  it  on 
tiptoe  to  catch  it;  sometimes  he  missed  it,  and  then  he  cast 
an  imploring  look  at  the  king,  as  it  fell  upon  the  furniture ; 
but  he  observed  it  not.  He  was  absorbed  in  writing  the  in- 
structions for  the  education  of  the  future  king,  Frederick 
William  III.  The  physical  education  of  the  prince  was  his 
first  care.  He  dwelt  upon  the  necessity  of  the  frequent  prac- 
tice of  dancing,  fencing,  and  riding,  to  give  suppleness,  grace, 
and  a  good  carriage — through  severe  training,  to  make  him 
capable  of  enduring  all  hardships.  The  different  branches  of 
study  next  occupied  the  king.  "It  is  not  sufficient,"  he 
wrote,  "  that  the  prince  should  learn  the  dates  of  history,  to 


36  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

repeat  them  like  a  parrot;  but  he  must  understand  how  to 
compare  the  events  of  ancient  times  with  the  modern,  and 
discover  the  causes  which  produced  revolutions,  and  show 
that,  generally,  in  the  world,  virtue  is  rewarded  and  vice 
punished.  Later,  he  can  learn  a  short  course  of  logic,  free 
from  all  pedantry ;  then  study  the  orations  of  Cicero  and  De- 
mosthenes, and  read  the  tragedies  of  Eacine.  When  older, 
he  should  have  some  knowledge  of  the  opinions  of  philoso- 
phers, and  the  different  religious  sects,  without  inspiring 
him  with  dislike  for  any  one  sect.  Make  it  clear  to  him  that 
we  all  worship  God — only  in  different  ways.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary that  he  should  have  too  much  respect  for  the  priests  who 
instruct  him." 

The  shuttlecock  fell,  at  this  instant,  upon  the  paper  upon 
which  the  king  was  writing.  Frederick  was  too  much  occu- 
pied to  look  up,  but  he  threw  it  upon  the  floor,  continuing  to 
write : 

"  The  great  object  will  be  to  awaken  a  love  of  learning  in 
the  prince,  to  prevent  any  approach  to  pedantry,  and  not  to 
make  the  course  of  instruction  too  severe  at  the  commence- 
ment. We  now  come  to  the  chief  division  of  education,  that 
which  concerns  the  morals.  Neither  you  nor  all  the  power 
in  the  world  would  be  sufficient  to  alter  the  character  of  a 
child.  Education  can  do  nothing  further  than  moderate  the 
violence  of  the  passions.  Treat  my  nephew  as  the  son  of  a 
citizen,  who  has  to  make  his  own  fortune.  Say  to  him  that, 
when  he  commits  follies,  and  learns  nothing,  the  whole  world 
will  despise  him.  Let  him  assume  no  mannerisms,  but  bring 
him  up  simply.  The — " 

It  was  the  second  time  the  shuttlecock  fell  upon  the  paper. 
The  king  looked  up  censuringly  at  the  prince,  who  stood 
speechless  with  fright  and  anxiety.  The  king  again  threw  it 
upon  the  floor,  and  wrote  on  : 

"  The  prince  must  be  polite  toward  every  one ;  and  if  he  is 
rude,  he  must  immediately  make  an  apology.  Teach  him  that 
all  men  are  equal — that  high  birth  is  a  myth  when  not  ac- 


FREDERICK    WILLIAM.  37 

companied  with  merit.  Let  the  prince  speak  with  every  one, 
that  he  may  gain  confidence.  It  is  of  no  consequence  if  he 
talks  nonsense;  every  one  knows  that  he  is  a  child.  Take 
care  in  his  education,  above  all  things,  that  he  is  self-reliant, 
and  not  led  by  others ;  his  follies,  as  well  as  his  good  qualities, 
should  belong  to  himself.  It  is  of  very  great  importance  to 
inspire  him  with  a  love  for  military  life;  and  for  this  reason 
say  to  him,  and  let  him  hear  others  say  it,  that  every  man 
who  is  not  a  soldier  is  a  miserable  fellow,  whether  noble  or 
not.  He  must  see  the  soldiers  exercise  as  often  as  possible; 
and  it  would  be  well  to  send  for  five  or  six  cadets,  and  have 
them  drill  before  him.  .  Every  thing  depends  upon  cultivat- 
ing a  taste  for  these  things.  Inspire  him  with  a  love  of  our 
country,  above  all  things.  Let  no  one  speak  to  him  who  is 
not  truly  patriotic." 

Again  the  shuttlecock  fell  upon  the  paper.  The  little 
prince  uttered  a  cry  of  horror,  staring  at  the  plaything.  This 
time  the  king  did  not  receive  the  interruption  so  calmly.  He 
looked  at  the  speechless  boy  as  if  very  angry ;  then  took  it 
and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  Casting  another  angry  glance  at 
the  prince,  he  continued : 

"  The  officers  who  dine  with  the  prince  shall  tease  and 
annoy  him,  that  he  may  become  confident." 

"Your  majesty,"  said  the  prince,  timidly  and  imploringly, 
"I  beg  pardon  a  thousand  times  for  being  so  awkward.  I  am 
very  sorry,  and  I  will  be  more  careful  in  the  future." 

The  king  paid  no  attention  to  him,  but  continued  to  write: 
"  When  you  understand  him  better,  try  to  learn  his  chief  pas- 
sion— not  to  uproot  it,  but  to  moderate  it."  * 

"My  dear  lord  and  king,"  began  the  prince  again,  "I  beg 
you  will  have  the  goodness  to  give  me  my  shuttlecock." 

The  king  was  silent,  and  with  apparent  indifference  com- 
menced reading  over  what  he  had  written. 

Prince  Frederick  William  waited  a  long  time,  but,  on  re- 

*  This  entire  instruction  is  an  exact  translation  of  the  original,  which  Frederick 
drew  up  in  French,  and  which  is  included  in  his  "  Complete  Works." 


38  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

ceiving  no  answer,  and  understanding  that  his  pleading  was 
in  vain,  his  face  grew  red  with  anger,  and  his  eyes  flashed. 
With  an  irritated,  determined  manner,  he  stepped  close  up 
to  the  king,  his  hands  resting  upon  his  hips.  "  Your  maj- 
esty," cried  he,  with  a  menacing  tone,  "will  you  give  me  my 
ball  or  not?" 

The  king  now  looked  up  at  the  prince,  who  regarded  him 
in  an  insolent,  questioning  manner.  A  smile,  mild  as  the 
evening  sunset,  spread  over  the  king's  face;  he  laid  his  hand 
lovingly  upon  the  curly  head  of  the  prince,  saying :  "  They 
will  never  take  away  Silesia  from  you.  Here  is  your  shuttle- 
cock." He  drew  it  from  his  pocket,  and  gave  it  to  the  little 
prince,  who  seized  his  hand  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE   DRIVE   TO   BERLIN". 

WILHELMINE  ENKE  passed  the  remainder  of  the  day,  after 
her  meeting  with  the  king,  in  anguish  and  tears.  She  re- 
called all  that  he  had  said  to  her,  every  word  of  which  pierced 
her  to  the  heart.  Her  little  daughter  of  seven  years  tried  in 
vain  to  win  a  smile  from  her  mamma  with  her  gentle  caresses. 
In  vain  she  begged  her  to  sing  to  her  and  smile  as  she  was 
wont  to  do.  The  mother,  usually  so  kind  and  affectionate, 
would  to-day  free  herself  from  her  child,  and  sent  her  away 
with  quivering  lip,  and  tears  in  her  eyes,  to  listen  to  her 
nurse's  stories. 

Once  alone,  Wilhelmine  paced  her  room  with  rapid  strides 
and  folded  arms,  giving  vent  to  her  repressed  anguish.  She 
reviewed  her  life,  with  all  its  changing  scenes.  It  was  a 
sad,  searching  retrospection,  but  in  it  she  found  consolation  and 
excuse  for  herself.  She  thought  of  her  childhood ;  she  saw 
the  gloomy  dwelling  where  she  had  lived  with  her  parents, 
brothers,  and  sisters.  She  recalled  the  need  and  the  want  of 


THE  DRIVE  TO  BERLIN.  39 

those  years — the  sickly,  complaining,  but  busy  mother;  the 
foolish,  wicked  lather,  who  never  ceased  his  constant  exercise 
of  the  bugle,  except  to  take  repeated  draughts  of  brandy,  or 
scold  the  children.  Then  she  saw  in  this  joyless  dwelling, 
in  which  she  crouched  with  her  little  sisters,  a  young  girl 
enter,  and  greet  them  smilingly.  She  wore  a  robe  glittering 
with  gold,  with  transparent  wings  upon  her  shoulders.  This 
young  girl  was  Wilhelmine's  older  sister,  Sophie,  who  had 
just  returned  from  the  Italian  opera,  where  she  was  employed. 
She  still  had  on  her  fairy  costume  in  which  she  had  danced  in 
the  opera  of  "  Armida,"  and  had  come,  with  a  joyous  face,  to 
take  leave  of  her  parents,  and  tell  them  that  a  rich  Eussian 
count  loved  her,  and  wanted  to  marry  her;  that  in  the  inter- 
vening time  he  had  taken  a  beautiful  apartment  for  her,  where 
she  would  remove  that  very  evening.  She  must  bid  them  fare- 
well, for  her  future  husband  was  waiting  for  her  in.  the  carriage 
at  the  door. 

Sophie  laughed  at  her  grumbling  father,  shook  hands  with 
her  weeping  mother,  and  bent  to  kiss  the  children.  Wilhel- 
mine,  in  unspeakable  anguish,  sprang  after  her,  holding  her 
fast,  with  both  hands  clinching  the  crackling  wings.  She 
implored  her  sister  to  take  her  with  her,  while  the  tears  ran 
in  streams  down  her  cheeks.  "You  know  that  I  love  you," 
she  cried,  "and  my  only  pleasure  is  to  see  you  every  day. 
Take  me  with  you,  and  I  will  serve  and  obey  you,  and  be 
your  waiting-maid."  Wilhelmine  held  the  wings  firmly  with 
a  convulsive  grasp,  and  continued  to  weep  and  implore,  until 
Sophie  at  last  laughingly  yielded. 

"  Well,  come,  if  you  will  be  my  waiting-maid ;  no  one  combs 
my  hair  as  well  as  you,  and  your  simple  style  of  arranging  it 
suits  me  better  than  any  other.  Come,  come,  it  shall  be  ar- 
ranged, you  shall  be  my  waiting-maid." 

The  pictures  of  memory  changed,  and  Wilhelmine  saw  her- 
self in  the  midst  of  splendor,  as  the  poor  little  maid,  unnoticed 
by  her  brilliant  sister,  the  beloved  of  the  Eussian  Count  Ma- 
tv«chko.  Joy  and  pleasure  reigned  in  the  beautifully 


40  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

apartment  where  Sophie  lived.  She  was  the  queen  of  the 
feasts  and  the  balls.  Many  rich  and  fine  gentlemen  came 
there,  and  the  beautiful  Sophie,  the  dancer,  the  affianced  of 
Count  Matuschko,  received  their  homage.  No  one  observed 
the  sad  little  waiting-maid,  in  her  dark  stuff  dress,  with  her 
face  bound  up  in  black  silk,  as  if  she  had  the  toothache.  She 
wore  the  cast-off  morning  dresses  of  her  sister,  and,  at  her 
command,  bound  her  face  with  the  black  silk,  so  that  the  ad- 
mirers of  her  sister  should  not  see,  by  a  fugitive  glance,  or 
chance  meeting,  the  budding  beauty  of  the  little  maid. 

Wilhelmine  dared  not  enter  the  saloon  when  visitors  were 
there ;  only  when  Sophie  was  alone,  or  her  artistic  hand  was 
needed  to  arrange  her  sister's  beautiful  hair,  was  she  per- 
mitted to  stay  with  the  future  countess.  Every  rough  touch 
was  resented  with  harsh  words,  blows,  and  ill-treatment. 
The  smiling  fairy  of  the  drawing-room,  was  the  harsh,  grim 
mistress  for  her  sister,  whose  every  mistake  was  punished  with 
unrelenting  severity.  In  fact,  she  was  made  a  very  slave ;  and 
now,  after  long  years,  the  remembrance  of  it  even  cast  a 
gloomy  shadow  over  Wilhelmine 's  face,  and  her  eyes  flashed 
fire. 

Another  picture  now  rose  up  before  her  soul,  which  caused 
her  face  to  brighten,  as  a  beautiful  beaming  image  presented 
itself,  the  image  of  her  first  and  only  love !  She  lived  over 
again  the  day  when  it  rose  up  like  a  sun  before  her  wonder- 
ing, admiring  gaze,  and  yet  it  was  a  stormy  day  for  her. 
Sophie  was  very  angry  with  her,  because  in  crimping  her 
hair  she  had  burnt  her  cheek,  which  turned  the  fairy  into  a 
fury.  She  threw  the  weak  child  upon  the  floor,  and  beat  and 
stamped  upon  her. 

Suddenly  a  loud,  angry  voice  commanded  her  to  cease,  and 
a  strong,  manly  arm  raised  the  trembling,  weeping  girl,  and 
with  threatening  tone  bade  Sophie  be  quiet.  Prince  Freder- 
ick William  of  Prussia  took  compassion  on  the  poor  child. 
The  sister  had  not  remarked  him  in  her  paroxysm  of  rage; 
had  never  heard  him  enter.  He  had  been  a  witness  to  Wil- 


THE  DRIVE  TO  BERLIN.  41 

helmine's  ill-treatment.  He  now  defended  her,  blaming  her 
sister  for  her  cruelty  to  her,  and  declared  his  intention  to  be 
her  future  protector.  How  handsome  he  looked ;  how  noble 
in  his  anger ;  how  his  eyes  flashed  as  he  gazed  upon  her,  who 
knelt  at  his  feet,  and  kissed  them,  looking  up  to  him  as  her 
rescuer ! 

"  Wilhelmine,  come  with  me ;  I  do  not  wish  you  to  remain 
here,"  said  he;  "your  sister  will  never  forgive  you  that  I  have 
taken  your  part.  Come,  I  will  take  you  to  your  parents,  and 
provide  for  you.  You  shall  be  as  beautiful  and  accomplished 
a  lady  as  your  sister,  but,  Heaven  grant,  a  more  generous  and 
noble-hearted  one!  Come!" 

These  words,  spoken  with  a  gentle,  winning  voice,  had 
never  died  away  in  her  heart.  Twelve  years  had  passed  since 
then,  and  they  still  rang  in  her  ear,  in  the  tumult  of  the 
world  as  well  as  in  the  quiet  of  her  lonely  room.  They  had 
comforted  her  when  the  shame  of  her  existence  oppressed  her; 
rejoiced  her  when,  with  the  delight  of  youth  and  happiness, 
she  had  given  herself  up  to  pleasure.  She  had  followed  him 
quietly,  devotedly,  as  a  little  dog  follows  his  master.  He  had 
kept  his  word ;  he  had  had  her  instructed  during  three  years, 
and  then  sent  her  to  Paris,  in  order  to  give  her  the  last  polish, 
the  tour  mire  of  the  world,  however  much  it  had  cost  him  to 
separate  from  her,  or  might  embarrass  him,  with  his  scanty 
means,  to  afford  the  increase  of  expense.  A  year  elapsed  and 
Wilhelmine  returned  a  pleasing  lady,  familiar  with  the  tone 
of  the  great  world,  and  at  home  in  its  manners  and  customs. 

The  prince  had  kept  his  word — that  which  he  had  promised 
her  as  he  took  her  from  her  sister's  house,  to  make  her  a  fine, 
accomplished  lady.  And  when  he  repeated  to  her  now 
"Come,"  could  she  refuse  him — him  to  whom  she  owed  every 
thing,  whom  she  loved  as  her  benefactor,  her  teacher,  her 
friend,  and  lover?  She  followed  him,  and  concealed  herself 
for  him  in  the  modest  little  dwelling  at  Potsdam.  For  him 
she  lived  in  solitude,  anxiously  avoiding  to  show  herself 
publicly,  that  the  king  should  never  know  of  her  existence, 


42  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

and  in  his  just  anger  sever  the  unlawful  tie  which  bound  her 
to  the  Prince  of  Prussia.*  Wilhelmine  recalled  the  past 
seven  years  of  her  life,  her  two  children,  whom  she  had  borne 
to  the  prince,  and  the  joy  that  filled  his  heart  as  he  became  a 
father,  although  his  lawful  wife  had  also  borne  him  children. 
She  looked  around  her  small,  quiet  dwelling,  arranged  in  a 
modest  manner,  not  as  the  favorite  of  the  Prince  of  Prussia, 
but  as  an  unpretending  citizen's  wife ;  she  thought  how  oft 
with  privations,  with  want  even,  she  had  had  to  combat ;  how 
oft  the  ornaments  which  the  prince  had  sent  her  in  the  rare 
days  of  abundance  had  been  taken  to  the  pawnbrokers  to  pro- 
vide the  necessary  wants  of  herself  and  children.  Her  eyes 
flashed  with  pride  and  joy  at  the  thought  which  she  dared  to 
breathe  to  herself,  that  not  for  gold  or  riches,  power  or 
position,  had  she  sold  her  love,  her  honor,  and  her  good  name. 

"  It  was  from  pure  affinity,  from  gratitude  and  affection, 
that  I  followed  the  husband  of  my  heart,  although  he  was  a 
prince,"  she  said. 

Still  the  shame  of  her  existence  weighed  upon  her.  The 
king  had  commanded  her  to  hide  her  head  so  securely  that  no 
one  might  know  her  shame,  or  the  levity  of  the  prince. 

"Go!  and  let  me  never  see  you  again!" 

Did  not  this  mean  that  the  king  would  remove  her  so  far 
that  there  would  not  be  a  possible  chance  to  appear  again  be- 
fore him?  Was  there  not  hidden  in  these  words  a  menace,  a 
warning?  Would  not  the  king  revenge  on  her  the  sad  ex- 
periences of  his  youth?  Perhaps  he  would  punish  her  for 
what  Doris  Eitter  had  suffered !  Doris  Eitter !  She,  too,  had 
loved  a  crown  prince — she,  too,  had  dared  to  raise  her  eyes  to 
the  future  King  of  Prussia,  for  which  she  was  cruelly  punished, 
though  chaste  and  pure,  and  hurled  down  to  the  abyss  of  shame 
for  the  crime  of  loving  an  heir  to  the  throne.  Beaten,  insulted, 
and  whipped  through  the  streets,  and  then  sent  to  the  house  of 
correction  at  Spandau!  Oh,  poor,  unhappy  Doris  Eitter! 
Will  the  king  atone  to  you — will  he  revenge  the  friend  of  his 

*  "  Memoirs  of  the  Countess  Lichtenau,"  p.  80. 


THE  DRIVE   TO  BERLIN.  43 

youth  on  the  mistress  of  his  successor?  The  old  King  Freder- 
ick, weary  of  life,  thinks  differently  from  the  young  crown 
prince.  He  can  be  as  severe  as  his  father,  cruel  and  inexor- 
able as  he. 

"Doris  Eitter!  Thy  fate  haunts  me.  On  the  morrow  I 
also  may  be  whipped  through  the  streets,  scorned,  reviled  by 
the  rabble,  and  then  sent  to  Spandau  as  a  criminal.  Did  not 
the  king  threaten  me  with  the  house  of  correction,  with  the 
spinning-wheel,  which  he  would  have  ready  for  me?" 

At  the  thought  of  it  a  terrible  anguish,  a  nameless  despair, 
seized  her.  She  felt  that  the  spinning-wheel  hung  over  her 
like  the  sword  of  Damocles,  ready  at  the  least  occasion  to  fall 
upon  her,  and  bind  her  to  it.  She  felt  that  she  could  not 
endure  such  suspense  and  torture ;  she  must  escape ;  she  must 
rescue  herself  from  the  king's  anger. 

"But  whither,  whither!  I  must  fly  from  here,  from  his 
immediate  proximity,  where  a  motion  of  his  finger  is  sufficient 
to  seize  me,  to  cause  me  to  disappear  before  the  prince  could 
have  any  knowledge  of  it,  before  he  could  know  of  the  danger 
which  threatened  me.  I  must  away  from  Potsdam!" 

The  prince  had  arranged  a  little  apartment  in  Berlin  for 
the  winter  months,  which  she  exchanged  for  Potsdam  in  the 
spring.  This  seemed  to  offer  her  more  security  for  the  mo- 
ment, for  she  could  fly  at  the  least  sign  of  danger,  could  even 
hide  herself  from  the  prince,  if  it  were  necessary  to  save  him 
and  herself.  Away  to  Berlin,  then!  That  was  the  only 
thought  she  was  able  to  seize  upon.  Away  with  her  children, 
before  misfortune  could  reach  them! 

She  sprang  to  the  door,  tore  it  open,  rushing  to  the  nurse, 
upon  whose  knees  the  baby  slept,  near  whom  her  little 
daughter  knelt.  With  trembling  hands  she  took  her  boy  and 
pressed  him  to  her  heart.  "  Louisa,  we  must  leave  here  im- 
mediately; it  is  urgent  necessity!"  said  she,  with  quivering 
lip.  "  Do  not  say  a  word  about  it  to  any  one,  but  hasten ; 
order  quickly  a  wagon,  bargain  for  the  places,  and  say  we 
must  set  off  at  once.  The  wagon  must  not  be  driven  to  the 


44  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

door,  but  we  will  meet  it  at  the  Berlin  Gate.  We  will  go  on 
foot  there,  and  get  in.  Quick,  Louisa,  not  a  word — it  must 
be!" 

The  servant  did  not  dare  to  oppose  her  mistress,  or  contra- 
dict the  orders,  but  hastened  to  obey  them. 

"It  is  all  the  old  king's  fault,"  said  Louisa  to  herself,  as 
she  hurried  through  the  street.  "  Yes,  the  king  has  ordered 
mistress  to  Berlin.  He  looked  so  furious,  the  old  bear !  His 
eyes  flashed  so  terribly,  one  might  well  fear  him,  and  I 
thanked  Heaven  when  mamselle  sent  me  home  from  the  park. 
It  is  coming  to  a  bad  end  at  last ;  I  should  have  done  better 
not  to  have  taken  the  place  at  all.  Oh,  if  we  were  only  away 
from  here;  if  I  only  could  find  a  wagon  to  take  us!" 

Thanks  to  the  nurse's  fears  and  endeavors,  the  wagon  was 
soon  found,  and  scarcely  an  hour  had  passed  before  Wilhel- 
mine  Enke,  her  two  children  and  nurse,  were  hidden  under  a 
plain  linen-covered  wagon,  and  on  their  way  to  Berlin. 

The  street  was  unusually  animated,  as  the  division  of  troops 
which  the  king  had  reviewed  in  Berlin,  were  marching  out  of 
the  city  to  report  themselves  on  the  Bavarian  frontier.  Their 
first  night's  quarters  were  to  be  in  Potsdam,  and  the  last  great 
parade  was  to  take  place  there  on  the  following  morning,  be- 
fore the  king  commenced  his  journey.  The  driver  had  often 
to  halt  at  the  side  of  the  street  to  let  the  troops  pass,  which 
with  a  full  band  of  music,  came  marching  on.  At  the  head' 
of  one  of  the  regiments,  mounted  upon  a  fiery  steed,  was  a 
general  in  brilliant  uniform,  his  breast  covered  with  orders, 
which  glittered  in  the  sun.  He  was  tall  and  rather  corpulent, 
but  appeared  to  advantage.  His  carriage  was  proud  and  im- 
posing, his  face  was  almost  too  youthful  for  a  general,  and 
his  body  too  corpulent  for  the  expressive  and  delicate  features. 
As  he  passed  by  the  poor,  unpretending  carriage,  where  Wil- 
helmine  sat  with  her  children,  she  heard  distinctly  his  beauti- 
ful, sonorous  voice,  and  merry  laugh.  "  Oh  Heaven,  it  is 
he! — it  is  he!"  she  murmured,  drawing  herself  farther  back 
into  the  wagon  with  her  children.  Just  then,  out  of  an 


THE  DRIVE  TO  BERLIN.  45 

opening  in  the  linen  cover,  Louisa  peeped,  whispering, 
"  Mamselle,  it  is  the  Prince  of  Prussia  \  ' 

"  Be  quiet — for  mercy's  sake  be  quiet,  Louisa,  that  we  may 
not  be  remarked!"  said  Wilhelmine,  gently.  "Take  the 
child  that  he  may  not  scream,  for  if  the  prince  should  hear 
him  he  will  turn  back.  He  knows  the  voice  of  his  little  son !" 

"Yes,  he  knows  the  voice  of  his  little  son!"  muttered  the 
nurse,  as  she  laid  the  child  to  her  breast.  "  The  little  son 
must  stop  here  on  the  street,  in  a  miserable  wagon,  while  his 
noble  father  rides  past,  so  splendid  and  glittering  with  gold, 
not  knowing  that  his  little  boy  is  so  near  him.  Oh,  a  mil 
trouble  and  a  real  heart-sorrow  is  this!" 

"Indeed  it  is,"  said  "Wilhelmine,  in  her  heart,  "  a  real 
trouble  and  a  real  heart-sorrow.  How  all  these  men  would 
present  arms,  and  salute  my  children,  if  they  had  been  born 
to  a  throne  instead  of  obscurity  I  How  they  would  bow  and 
bend,  if  I  were  called  Louisa  of  Hesse-Darmstadt,  and  the 
lawful  wife  of  the  prince !  Did  they  not  also  bend  and  bow 
before  the  first  wife,  Elizabeth  von  Braunschweig,*  although 
every  one  knew  of  her  shameful  conduct — knew  of  her  in- 
trigues with  lackeys  and  common  soldiers?  Do  they  not  now 
bow  before  her,  although  she  is  banished  to  Stettin  for  her 
infamous  conduct,  and  lives  there  a  prisoner?  A  fine  im- 
prisonment that !  The  whole  town  is  her  prison,  and  when 
she  appears  in  public  every  one  stands  upon  the  street  to 
salute  the  crown  princess  of  Prussia.  But  when  they  see  me 
they  pass  carelessly  by,  or  they  look  at  me  with  a  contempt- 
uous laugh,  and  fancy  themselves  miracles  of  virtue,  and  free 
from  sin.  My  only  crime  is  that  my  father  was  not  a  prince, 

*  The  first  wife  of  Prince  Frederick  William  of  Prussia  was  the  Princess  Elizabeth 
von  Braunschweig,  the  niece  of  Frederick  the  Great.  The  crown  prince  was  scarcely 
twenty-one  years  of  age  when  betrothed  to  her.  After  four  years  they  were  sepa- 
rated, on  account  of  the  improper  conduct  of  the  princess,  who  was  banished  to  Stet- 
tin. There  she  lived  until  her  death  in  1840,  after  seventy-one  years  of  imprisonment. 
Never  during  these  seventy-one  years  had  thePrincess  "  Lisbeth,"  as  she  was  called, 
dared  to  leave  Stettin.  There  she  was  obliged  to  amuse  herself .  Her  concerts  and 
evening  entertainments  were  celebrated.  The  second  wife  of  the  crown  prince  of 
Prussia  was  Louisa  of  Hesse-Darmstadt,  the  mother  of  Frederick  William  IIL  She 
died  in  1805. 


46  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

and  that  I  am  of  low  birth.  Am  I  to  blame  for  that — to 
blame  that  the  man  whom  I  love,  and  who  loves  me,  cannot 
marry  me  and  make  me  his  lawful  wife?" 

"Ho!  gee,  ho!"  cried  the  driver  to  his  horses.  "Get up!" 
The  troops  had  passed,  the  highway  was  now  free,  and  un- 
interrupted rolled  the  heavy,  creaking  wagon  into  Berlin. 
Within  all  was  quiet.  The  two  children  and  nurse  were 
asleep.  The  driver  was  half  asleep,  his  head  hung  shaking 
about;  only  now  and  then  he  started  to  give  his  horses  a 
crack,  which  the  thin,  wheezing  animals  did  not  heed  in  the 
least.  Wilhelmine  alone  slept  not;  in  her  soul  there  was 
no  quiet,  no  peace.  She  grumbled  at  fate,  and  at  mankind. 
An  unspeakable  anxiety  seized  her  for  the  immediate  future, 
and  fear  of  the  king's  anger.  As  the  sun  was  setting  they 
reached  Berlin,  and  were  entering  the  town,  when  the  guard, 
in  royal  livery,  sprang  through  the  gate,  calling,  in  a  loud 
voice,  to  the  wagon,  "Halt — halt!  Turn  out  of  the  way!" 
Then  was  heard  the  call  of  the  sentinel,  and  the  roll  of  the 
drums.  An  equipage,  drawn  by  six  black  steeds,  drove  past. 
A  pale,  young  wife,  splendidly  attired,  leaned  back  in  the 
carriage,  and  the  little  flag-bearer,  Prince  Frederick  William, 
was  by  her  side;  on  the  seat  opposite  sat  the  second  son,  Prince 
Louis,  and  the  lord  steward.  In  this  beautiful  equipage 
drove  the  Princess  of  Prussia;  at  her  side,  in  a  miserable 
linen-covered  wagon,  crouching  far  in  the  corner,  sat  Wilhel- 
mine Enke,  the  rival  of  the  princess;  near  her,  her  two  chil- 
dren, whose  existence  condemned  her,  and  stamped  her  life 
with  dishonor.  Like  a  dream  the  brilliant  apparition  rushed 
past  Wilhelmine,  and  it  haunted  her  through  the  long  streets, 
to  the  humble  home  where  she  sought  a  temporary  refuge. 
And  when  finally  alone,  in  her  own  room,  where  no  one  could 
spy  into  her  face,  nor  understand  her  words,  there  broke  forth 
from  her  soul  a  long-repressed  wrong.  She  stood  erect;  a 
proud,  insolent  smile  played  around  her  mouth.  "  I  am  his 
wife,  too;  I  alone  am  his  beloved  wife,"  said  she,  with  a  loud, 
triumphant  voice,  "  and  my  children  are  his  only  truly- beloved 


THE  DRIVE  TO  BERLIN.  47 

children,  for  they  are  those  of  his  love.  How  proudly  she 
drove  past  me!  How  beautiful  is  her  pale  face,  and  how  in- 
teresting her  sad  smile!  She  in  sunlight,  and  I  in  shade! 
She  knows  that  I  am  her  rival,  but  she  is  not  mine.  No,  the 
Princess  of  Prussia  cannot  rival  Wilhelmine  Enke.  I  have 
no  fear  of  her.  But  the  king  I  have  to  fear,"  cried  she 
suddenly,  shrinking  with  terror.  In  the  meeting  with  the 
princess  she  had  forgotten  him,  her  anguish,  her  anxiety  for 
the  future.  All  were  forgotten  for  the  moment — to  be  re- 
called with  renewed  terror. 

"  Thank  Heaven,"  she  said,  "  I  have  escaped.  For  the  mo- 
ment I  am  safe !  What  will  the  prince  do,  when  he  finds  that 
we  have  fled  from  Potsdam?  Will  he  divine  where  we  have 
gone?  Will  he  come  to  seek  me?  If  he  still  loves  me — if  I 
am  really  the  happy  rival  of  his  wife  and  every  other  court 
lady — yes,  then  he  will  come.  Then  he  will  know  where  to 
find  his  Wilhelmine.  But  if  it  is  true,  what  malicious  people 
have  repeated  to  me,  with  feigned  sympathy,  that  the  prince 
loves  another — that  he  has  withdrawn  his  love  from  me,  is  in- 
different and  cold — then  he  will  not  seek  me ;  then  I  shall 
remain  here  alone ! — alone,  with  my  children,  this  long,  fear- 
ful night!  What,  then,  if  I  am  alone?  No,  oh,  no!  I  will 
not  believe  that  I  am  forsaken.  These  are  wicked  thoughts 
which  haunt  me — only  the  agitation  of  this  dreadful  day, 
which  imagination  has  overwrought.  Eise  up  and  be  strong! 
Go  to  thy  children,"  said  she,  "  and  read  in  their  eyes  that  he 
can  never  leave  thee!" 

Forcing  herself  to  composure,  she  sought  her  children; 
found  Louisa  humming  and  singing  her  little  boy  to  sleep, 
and  her  daughter  nodding,  on  a  low  stool  at  her  feet. 

"  Come,  my  child,  I  will  put  you  to  sleep,"  said  the  mother, 
lifting  her  in  her  arms.  "  Your  mother  will  make  your  bed 
softly.  When  you  sleep  and  speak  with  the  angels,  intercede 
for  us  all." 

With  tender  care  she  undressed  her  and  bore  her  gently  in 
her  arms  to  her  bed,  and,  kneeling  before  it,  breathed  a  prayer 


48  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

over  her  sleeping  child;  then  bent  over  the  cradle  of  her  son, 
blessing  and  kissing  him.  "  Sleep  my  boy,  sleep.  I  know 
not  that  I  shall  ever  see  thy  beautiful  eyes  open  again — whether 
I  shall  ever  again  press  thee  to  my  heart.  Who  can  tell  if 
they  may  not  come  this  very  night  to  remove  me  to  prison — 
to  punish  me  for  you,  my  children,  my  beloved  children! — 
Be  calm,  be  calm!  I  shall  remain  here  until  morning,  at 
least,"  added  she. 

She  turned  to  the  nurse,  who,  with  anxious  face  and  folded 
hands,  stood  at  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room.  "  Go,  now, 
Louisa — go,  and  take  something  to  eat.  You  must  be  hun- 
gry and  tired.  Buy  at  the  next  store  what  you  need ;  but  do 
not  stop  to  talk  with  any  one  or  repeat  my  name.  Then  re- 
turn quickly,  and  take  care  of  the  children.  Do  not  trouble 
yourself  about  me — I  need  nothing  more." 

"  But  you  must  eat  something,  mamselle ;  you  must  have 
some  supper!" 

Wilhelmine  shook  her  head,  refusing,  and  returned  quickly 
to  her  own  room. 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE  OATH  OF  FIDELITY. 

LONG  after  nightfall  the  nurse  heard  her  mistress  rapidly 
pacing  her  room,  and  talking  aloud  to  herself.  Soon,  how- 
ever, Sleep  spread  her  soothing  wings  over  Louisa,  and  she 
heard  no  more  the  rapid  steps  and  loud  talking  of  her  mis- 
tress, nor  the  rolling  of  a  carriage  which  stopped  before  the 
door,  and  the  quick,  vigorous  steps  of  a  man  mounting  the 
stairs  But  Wilhelmine  heard  them.  Breathless  she  stood, 
listening  to  the  approaching  footsteps,  for  she  felt  that  they 
had  to  decide  her  future — the  weal  and  woe  of  her  children ! 
Was  it  he,  her  beloved,  the  father  of  her  children  ?  or  was  it 
the  king's  bailiff  who  had  followed  her,  and  came  to  seize  her? 


THE  OATH  OF  FIDELITY.  49 

Nearer  they  came;  the  bell  was  hastily,  violently  rung. 
Wilhelmine  uttered  a  cry  of  delight.  She  recognized  the  voice, 
the  commanding  manner,  and  rushed  through  the  anteroom 
to  open  the  door.  The  prince  encircled  her  in  his  arms, 
pressed  her  to  his  beating  heart,  and,  lifting  her  up,  bore  her 
into  the  room. 

"Why  did  you  leave  Potsdam,  Wilhelmine?  Tell  me 
quickly,  why  did  you  do  it?"  asked  the  prince,  tenderly  kiss- 
ing her,  as  he  sat  her  upon  the  divan  at  his  side.  Overcome 
with  her  tears,  she  could  not  answer.  "  What  mean  these  tears? 
Has  any  one  dared  to  wound  your  feelings  or  injure  you?" 

"  Yes,  Frederick,  and  he  who  injures  me  hazards  nothing — 
for  it  is  the  king!  I  met  him  in  the  park  at  Potsdam  this 
morning.  He  has  crushed  me  with  his  scorn  and  anger.  He 
has  threatened  me  with  a  fearful  punishment — no  less  than 
the  house  of  correction  at  Spandau !  He  has  told  me  that  the 
spinning-wheel  is  in  readiness  for  me  if  I  excite  his  further 
contempt." 

A  cry  of  fury  escaped  the  prince.  Springing  up,  he  paced 
the  room  with  rapid  strides.  Wilhelmine  remained  upon  the 
divan,  but  her  tears  did  not  prevent  her  following  the  prince 
with  a  searching  glance — to  read  his  face,  pale  with  rage.  "  I 
must  bear  it,"  he  cried,  beating  his  forehead.  "  I  cannot 
protect  those  that  I  love!" 

A  ray  of  joy  lighted  up  Wilhelmine's  face  as  she  listened, 
but  it  disappeared  with  the  tears  which  flowed  afresh.  "  I 
am  a  poor,  unfortunate  child,"  she  sobbed,  "whom  every  one 
despises,  and  fears  not  to  injure,  who  has  no  one  to  counsel  or 
protect  her,  and  who  is  lost  if  God  does  not  have  compassion 
upon  her. " 

The  prince  rushed  to  her,  seizing  both  hands.  "  Wilhel- 
mine, do  not  drive  me  mad  with  sorrow,"  he  cried,  trembling 
with  excitement  and  anger.  "  Is  it  my  fault  that  I  cannot 
protect  you  against  him  ?  Have  I  not  defended  you  from  all 
the  rest  of  the  world?  Have  I  ever  allowed  any  one  to  treat 
you  with  contempt?" 


50  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  I  have  never  given  occasion  for  it,  dearest  I  have 
studiously  avoided  all  men,  to  escape  their  contempt  and 
scorn.  Shame  is  hard  to  bear,  fearfully  hard.  I  felt  it  to- 
day, as  his  beautiful  eyes  flashed  upon  me  with  contempt,  as 
his  haughty  language  crushed  me  to  the  earth.  This  is  the 
yoke,  Frederick  William,  that  I  and  my  children  must  bear 
to  our  graves!" 

"No,  Wilhelmine,  not  as  long  as  we  live — only  while  he 
lives !  Wait,  only  wait ;  let  me  rise  from  want  and  slavery ; 
let  the  day  come  which  makes  me  free — which  exalts  me :  my 
first  act  will  be  to  lift  the  yoke  from  you  and  our  children, 
and  woe  to  those — a  thousand  times  woe  to  those  who  would 
hold  it  fast !  Only  be  patient,  Wilhelmine,  submit,  and  bear 
with  me  the  hard  and  distressing  present.  Tell  me,  my  child, 
my  loved  one,  why  did  you  leave  Potsdam  so  suddenly?" 

"  I  was  afraid,  Frederick.  A  kind  of  madness  seized  me  at 
the  thought  of  the  king's  bailiffs  carrying  me  off  to  Spandau ; 
a  nameless  anxiety  confused  my  mind,  and  I  only  realized  that 
I  must  escape — that  I  must  conceal  myself.  I  felt  in  greater 
security  here  than  at  Potsdam  for  the  night." 

"  And  you  fled  without  leaving  me  any  sign  or  message  to 
tell  me  whither  you  had  gone!  Oh,  Wilhelmine,  what  if  I 
had  not  divined  your  hiding-place,  and  had  awaited  at  Pots- 
dam in  painful  anxiety?" 

"  Then  I  should  have  fled  from  here  at  daybreak,  leaving 
my  children,  and  in  some  quiet,  obscure  retreat  have  concealed 
myself  from  every  eye — even  your  own." 

"Would  you  have  hidden  yourself  from  me?"  cried  the 
prince,  encircling  her  in  his  arms,  and  pressing  her  to  his  heart. 

"  Yes,  Frederick,  when  your  heart  did  not  prompt  you 
where  to  find  me,  then  it  would  have  been  a  proof  that  you  were 
indifferent  to  me.  When  I  cannot  lean  upon  your  love,  then 
there  is  no  longer  any  protection  or  abiding-place  for  me  in 
the  world,  and  the  grave  will  be  my  refuge. " 

"  But  you  see  my  heart  revealed  you  to  me,  and  I  am  here," 
said  the  prince,  smiling. 


THE  OATH  OF  FIDELITY.  51 

"Yes,  Heaven  be  praised,  you  have  come  to  me,"  she  cried, 
exultingly,  throwing  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  kissing 
him  passionately.  "  You  are  here ;  I  no  longer  dread  the  old 
king's  anger,  and  his  fearful  words  fall  as  spent  arrows  at  my 
feet.  You  are  here,  king  of  my  heart ;  now  I  have  only  one 
thing  to  dread." 

"AVhat  is  that,  Wilhelmine?" 

She  bent  close  to  his  ear,  and  whispered :  "  I  fear  that  you 
are  untrue  to  me;  that  there  is  some  ground  for  truth  in 
those  anonymous  letters,  which  declare  that  you  would  discard 
me  and  my  children  also,  for  you  love  another — not  one  other, 
but  many." 

"Jealousy,  again  jealous!"  the  prince  sighed. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  she,  tenderly,  "  I  only  repeat  what  is  daily 
written  me." 

"Why  do  you  read  it?"  cried  the  prince,  vehemently. 
"Why  do  you  quaff  the  poison  which  wicked,  base  men  offer 
you?  Why  do  you  net  throw  such  letters  into  the  fire,  as  I 
do  when  they  slander  you  to  me?" 

"  Because  you  know,  Frederick,"  she  answered,  proudly  and 
earnestly — "  you  must  know  that  that  which  they  write  against 
me  is  slander  and  falsehood.  My  life  lies  open  before  you ; 
every  year,  every  day,  is  like  an  unsullied  page,  upon  which 
but  one  name  stands  inscribed — Frederick  William — not 
Prince  Frederick  William.  What  does  it  benefit  me  that  you 
are  a  prince?  If  you  were  not  a  prince,  I  should  not  be  des- 
pised, my  children  would  not  be  nameless,  without  fortune, 
and  without  justice.  No,  were  you  not  a  prince,  I  should  not 
have  felt  ashamed  and  grief-stricken,  with  downcast  eyes,  be- 
fore the  lady  who  drove  past  in  her  splendid  carriage,  while 
I  was  humbly  seated  in  a  miserable  wagon.  No,  were  not  my 
beloved  a  prince,  he  could  have  made  me  his  wife,  could  have 
given  me  his  name,  and  I  should  to-day  be  at  his  side  with 
my  children.  Then,  what  benefit  is  it  to  me  that  you  are  a 
prince?  I  love  you  not  that  you  are  one,  but  notwithstanding 
it.  And  if  I  love  you  in  spite  of  all  this,  you  must  know  that 


52  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

my  affection  is  ever-enduring  and  ever-faithful — that  I  can 
never  forget  you,  never  abandon  you." 

"  And  do  you  believe,  Wilhelmine,  that  I  could  ever  aban- 
don or  forsake  you?  Is  it  not  the  same  with  me?" 

She  shook  her  head,  sadly  answering:  "No,  Frederick,  it 
is  unfortunately  not  the  same.  You  have  loved  me,  and  per- 
haps you  love  me  still,  but  with  that  gentle  warmth  which 
does  not  hinder  glowing  flames  to  kindle  near  it,  and  with 
their  passionate  fire  overpower  the  slight  warmth." 

"  It  may  be  so  for  the  moment,  I  grant  it,"  the  prince  an- 
swered, thoughtfully ;  "  but  the  quick,  blazing  fire  soon  con- 
sumes itself,  leaving  only  a  heap  of  ashes ;  then  one  turns  to 
the  gentle  warmth  with  inward  comfort,  and  rejoices  in  its 
quiet  happiness." 

"You  confess  loving  another?"  said  Wilhelmine,  sorrow- 
fully. 

"No,  I  do  not  grant  that,"  the  prince  cried;  "but  you  are 
a  sensible,  clever  woman,  and  you  know  my  heart  is  easily 
excited.  It  is  only  the  meteoric  light  of  the  ignis  fatuus, 
soon  extinguished.  Let  it  dance  and  flicker,  but  remember 
that  the  only  warmth  which  cheers  and  brightens  my  heart  is 
your  love  and  friendship.  You  are  my  first  and  only  love, 
and  you  will  be  my  last — that  I  swear  to  you,  and  upon  it  you 
can  rely.  Every  thing  is  uncertain  and  wavering  in  life. 
They  have  ruined  me,  lacerated  my  heart,  and  there  is  noth- 
ing more  in  the  world  which  I  honor.  Only  sycophants  and 
hypocrites  surround  me,  who  speculate  upon  my  future  great- 
ness; or  spies,  who  would  make  their  fortune  to-day,  and 
therefore  spy  and  hang  about  me,  in  order  to  be  paid  by  the 
reigning  king,  and  who  slander  me  in  order  to  be  favorites  of 
his.  No  one  at  court  loves  me,  not  even  my  wife.  How 
should  she?  She  is  well  aware  that  I  married  her  only  at  the 
command  of  my  royal  uncle,  and  she  accepted  me  almost  with 
detestation,  for  they  had  related  to  her  the  unhappiness  of  my 
first  marriage,  and  the  happiness  of  my  first  love !  She  has 
learned  the  story  of  my  first  wife,  Elizabeth  von  Braun- 


THE  OATH  OF  FIDELITY.  53 

schweig,  and  that  of  my  only  love,  Wilhelmine  Enke !  She 
obeyed,  like  myself,  the  stern  command  of  another,  and  we 
were  married,  as  all  princes  and  princesses  are,  and  we  have 
had  children,  as  they  do.  We  lead  the  life  of  a  political  mar- 
riage, but  the  heart  is  unwed.  We  bow  before  necessity  and 
duty,  and,  believe  me,  those  are  the  only  household  gods  in 
the  families  of  princes.  Happy  the  man  who,  besides  these 
stern  divinities,  possesses  a  little  secret  temple,  in  which  ho 
can  erect  an  altar  to  true  love  and  friendship,  and  where  he 
can  enjoy  a  hidden  happiness.  This  I  owe  to  you,  Wilhel- 
mine; you  are  the  only  one  in  whom  I  have  confidence,  for 
you  have  proved  to  me  that  you  love  me  without  self-interest 
and  without  ambition.  You  have  said  it,  and  it  is  true,  you 
love  me,  notwithstanding  I  am  a  prince.  I  confess  to  you, 
there  are  many  lovely  women  of  the  court  who  are  your  rivals, 
and  who  would  try  to  separate  us  in  order  to  attract  me  to 
themselves.  They  are  beautiful  and  seductive,  and  I  am 
young  and  passionate;  and  if  these  lovely  women  have  no  re- 
spect for  my  dignity  as  a  married  man,  how  then  should  I 
have  it,  who  married  for  duty,  not  for  love?  But  there  is 
one  whom  I  respect  for  disinterestedness  and  fidelity !  Do  you 
not  know  who  alone  is  disinterested  and  faithful? — who  has 
never  seen  in  me  the  prince,  the  future  king — only  the  be- 
loved one,  the  man — one  who  has  never  wavered,  never 
counted  the  cost? — that  you  are,  Wilhelmiue  Enke,  therefore 
we  are  inseparable,  and  you  have  not  to  fear  that  I  can  ever 
forsake  you,  even  if  I  am  sometimes  entangled  in  the  magic 
nets  of  other  beautiful  women.  The  chains  which  bind  us 
together  cannot  be  torn  asunder,  for  a  wonderful  secret  power 
has  consecrated  them  with  the  magic  of  true  love — of  heart- 
felt friendship.'' 

"  Still  they  are  chains,  dearest,"  sighed  Wilhelmine.  "  You 
have  named  them  thus!  The  chains  will  at  last  oppress  you, 
and  you  will  forget  the  magic  power  which  binds  you,  and 
will  be  free.  No  holy  bond,  no  oath,  no  marriage  tie — noth- 
ing but  your  love  binds  you  to  me.  I  rejoice  in  it,  and  so 


54  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE   NEW  ERA. 

long  as  yon  do  not  forsake  me,  I  am  conscious  that  it  is  your 
own  free  choice  and  not  force  which  retains  yon." 

"I  will  give  you  an  outward  sign  of  our  bond  of  union," 
cried  the  prince.  "  I  will  do  it  to-day,  as  a  twofold  danger 
hangs  over  us — the  king  menaces  you,  and  war  menaces 
me." 

"Is  it  then  true,  do  you  go  with  the  king  to  the  field?" 
groaned  Wilhelmine. 

"Do  you  wish  me  to  remain?"  cried  the  prince,  his  eyes 
flashing.  "  Shall  I  here  seek  pleasure,  with  effeminate  good- 
nature, while  the  king,  in  spite  of  his  age,  exposes  himself  to 
all  the  fatigue  of  a  campaign  and  the  danger  of  battle?  This 
war  of  the  Bavarian  succession  is  unfortunate,  and  no  one 
knows  whether  the  German  empire  will  derive  any  important 
advantage  from  our  sustaining  by  force  of  arms  a  little  duchy. 
It  is  a  question  whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  abolish  the 
little  principalities,  in  order  to  strengthen  the  greater  Ger- 
man powers.  The  king  will  support  Bavaria,  because  he  en- 
vies Austria  its  possession,  and,  as  he  has  decided  upon  war, 
it  becomes  his  crown  prince  to  yield  to  his  decision  without 
murmuring.  Therefore,  Wilhelmine,  I  will  to-day  witness 
to  you  the  oath  of  fidelity.  If  God  calls  me  to  Him,  if  I  fall 
in  battle,  this  oath  will  be  your  legacy.  I  have  nothing  else 
to  leave  yon,  thanks  to  the  parsimony  of  my  noble  uncle.  I 
am  a  very  poor  crown  prince,  with  many  debts  and  little 
money,  and  not  in  a  condition  to  reward  your  love  and  fidelity 
otherwise  than  with  promises  and  hopes,  and  letters  of  credit 
for  the  future.  Such  a  bill  of  exchange  I  will  write  for  you — 
a  legacy  for  my  dear  Wilhelmine.  Give  me  pen  and  paper." 

Wilhelmine  hastened  to  her  writing-table  and  brought  him 
paper  with  writing-materials.  "There,  my  Frederick,"  said 
she,  "there  is  every  thing  necessary — only  the  ink,  I  fear, 
may  be  dried." 

The  prince  shook  his  head,  smiling.  "  Such  a  lover's  oath 
as  I  will  transcribe  for  yon  can  be  written  with  no  common 
ink.  See,  here  is  my  ink!" 


THE  OATH  OF  FIDELITY.  55 

The  prince  had  suddenly  made  a  slight  incision  in  his  arm, 
and,  as  the  blood  gushed  out,  he  dipped  his  pen  in  it,  and 
•vrote ;  then  handed  it  to  Wilhelmine,  saying :  "  Kead  it  here, 
in  the  presence  of  God  and  ourselves." 

Wilhelmine  pressed  it  to  her  lips,  and  read,  with  a  solemn 
voice :  "  '  By  my  word  of  honor  as  a  prince,  I  will  never  for- 
sake you,  and  only  death  shall  separate  you  from  me. — Prince 
Frederick  William  of  Prussia.'  "  * 

"  By  my  word  of  honor  as  a  prince,  I  will  never  forsake 
you,  and  only  death  shall  separate  me  from  you,"  repeated 
the  prince,  as  he  bent  over  Wilhelmine,  lifting  her  in  his 
arms  and  placing  her  upon  his  knee.  "  Take  the  paper  and 
guard  it  carefully,"  said  he.  "When  I  die,  and  you  have 
closed  my  eyes,  as  I  trust  you  will,  give  this  paper  to  my  son 
and  successor,  for  it  is  my  legacy  to  you,  and  I  hope  my  son 
will  honor  it  and  recognize  in  you  the  wife  of  my  heart,  and 
care  for  you." 

"Oh!  speak  not  of  dying,  Frederick,"  cried  Wilhelmine, 
embracing  him  tenderly;  "may  they  condemn  me,  and  im- 
prison me  as  a  criminal,  when  you  are  no  more!  What  mat- 
ters it  to  me  what  befalls  me,  when  I  no  longer  possess  you, 
my  beloved  one,  my  master?  Not  on  that  account  will  I  pre- 
serve the  precious  paper,  but  for  the  love  which  it  has  given 
me,  and  of  which  it  will  one  day  be  a  proof  to  my  children. 
This  paper  is  my  justification  and  my  excuse,  my  certificate 
and  my  declaration  of  honor.  I  thank  you  for  it,  for  it  is 
the  most  beautiful  present  that  I  have  ever  received." 

"  But  will  you  make  me  no  return,  Wilhelmine?  Will  you 
not  swear  to  me,  as  I  have  sworn  to  you?" 

She  took  the  knife  from  the  table  without  answering,  and 
pointing  it  to  her  left  arm — 

"  Oh,  not  there!"  cried  the  prince,  as  he  sought  to  stay  her 
hand.  "  Do  not  injure  your  beautiful  arm,  it  would  be  a 
sacrilege." 

Wilhelmine  freed  herself  from  him,  as  he  sought  to  hold 

*  " M6moires  of  the  Countess  Lichtenau."  p.  120. 


56  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

her  fast,  and  in  the  mutual  struggle  the  knife  sank  deep  into 
her  left  hand,  the  blood  gushing  out.* 

"Oh,  what  have  you  done?"  cried  the  prince,  terrified; 
"you  are  wounded!" 

He  seized  her  hand  and  drew  the  knife  from  the  wound, 
screaming  with  terror  as  a  clear  stream  of  blood  flowed  over 
his  own.  "A  physician!  Send  quickly  for  a  physician," 
cried  he.  "Where  are  my  servants?" 

Wilhelmine  closed  his  lips  at  this  instant  with  a  kiss,  and 
forced  herself  to  smile  in  spite  of  the  pain  which  the  wound 
caused  her.  "Dearest,  it  is  nothing,"  she  cried.  "I  have 
only  prepared  a  great  inkstand — let  me  write !" 

She  dipped  her  pen  in  the  blood,  which  continued  to 
flow,  and  wrote  quickly  a  few  lines,  handing  them  to  the 
prince. 

"Bead  aloud  what  you  have  written.  I  will  hear  from 
your  own  mouth  your  oath.  You  shall  write  it  upon  my 
heart  with  your  lips." 

Wilhelmine  read  :  "  By  my  love,  by  the  heads  of  my  two 
children,  I  swear  that  I  will  never  forsake  you — that  I  will  be 
faithful  to  you  unto  death,  and  will  never  separate  myself 
from  you ;  that  my  friendship  and  love  will  endure  beyond 
the  grave ;  that  I  will  ever  be  contented  and  happy  so  long  as 
I  may  call  myself  your  Wilhelmine  Enke." 

"  I  accept  your  oath,  dearest,"  said  the  prince,  pressing  her 
to  his  heart.  "This  paper  is  one  of  my  choicest  jewels,  and 
I  will  never  separate  myself  from  it.  We  have  now  sealed 
our  love  and  fidelity  with  our  blood,  and  I  hope  that  you  will 
never  doubt  me  again.  Remember  this  hour!" 

"  I  will,"  she  earnestly  promised,  "  and  I  swear  to  you  never 
to  torment  and  torture  you  again  with  my  jealousy.  I  shall 
al  ways  know,  and  shall  hold  fast  to  it,  that  you  will  return  to 
me." 

A  violent  knocking  on  the  house-door  interrupted  the  still- 

*  The  scar  of  this  wound  remained  her  whole  life,  as  Wilhelmine  relates  in  her 
memoirs. — See  "  MSmoires  of  the  Countess  Lichtenau." 


THE  OATH  OF  FIDELITY.  57 

ness  of  the  night.  A  voice  in  loud,  commanding  tones  called 
to  the  night-watch. 

"Here  I  am!"  answered  the  porter.  "Who  calls  me?  and 
what  is  the  matter?" 

"  Open  the  door,"  commanded  the  voice  again. 

"It  is  our  house,"  whispered  Wilhelmine,  who  had  softly 
opened  the  window.  "  It  is  so  dark,  I  can  only  see  a  black 
shadow  before  the  door." 

"Do  you  belong  to  the  house?"  asked  the  night-watch. 
"  I  dare  let  no  one  in  who  does  not  belong  there." 

"  Lift  'up  your  lantern,  and  look  at  my  livery.  It  is  at  the 
king's  order!" 

Wilhelmine  withdrew  from  the  window,  and  hastened  to 
the  prince,  who  had  retired  to  the  back  part  of  the  room. 
"It  is  Kretzschmar,  the  king's  footman  and  spy,"  she  whis- 
pered. "  Hide  yourself,  that  he  does  not  discover  you.  Go 
there  to  the  children." 

"  No,  Wilhelmine,  I  will  remain  here.     I — " 

Wilhelmine  pressed  her  hand  upon  his  mouth,  and  forced 
him  into  the  side-room,  bolting  the  door. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  "  I  will  meet  my  fate  with  courage ;  what- 
ever may  come,  it  shall  find  me  firm  and  composed.  My  chil- 
dren are  safe,  for  their  father  is  with  them." 

She  took  the  light,  and  hastened  into  the  anteroom,  which 
was  resounding  with  the  loud  ringing. 

"  Who  is  there?"  she  cried.     "  Who  rings  so  late  at  night?" 

"  In  the  name  of  the  king,  open!" 

Wilhelmine  shoved  back  the  bolt,  opening  the  door. 
"  Come  in,"  she  said,  "  and  tell  me  who  you  are." 

"I  think  you  recognize  me,"  said  Kretzschmar,  with  an 
impudent  smile.  "  You  have  often  seen  me  at  Potsdam  in 
company  with  the  king.  I  saw  you  this  morning  as  the  king 
did  you  the  honor  to  speak  with  you,  and  I  believe  did  not 
compliment  you." 

"  Did  his  majesty  send  you  here  to  say  this  to  me?" 

"No,  not   exactly  that,"  answered    he,  smiling;   "but,  as 


58  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

you  asked  me,  I  was  obliged  to  answer.  I  have  come  here 
with  all  speed  as  courier  from  Potsdam.  I  hope  you  will  at 
least  give  me  a  good  trinkgeld.  I  was  commanded  to  deliver 
into  your  own  hands  this  paper,  for  which  I  must  have  a  re- 
ceipt." He  drew  from  his  breast-pocket  a  large  sealed 
document,  which  he  handed  to  Wilhelmine.  "  Here  is  the 
receipt  all  ready,  with  the  pencil;  you  have  only  to  sign  your 
name,  and  the  business  is  finished."  He  stretched  himself 
with  an  air  of  the  greatest  ease  upon  the  cane  chair,  near  the 
door. 

Wilhelmine  colored  with  anger  at  the  free  conduct  of  the 
royal  footman,  and  hastened  to  sign  the  receipt  to  rid  herself 
of  the  messenger,  and  to  read  the  letter. 

"What  will  you  give  me  for  tririkgeld,  Mamselle  Enke?" 
asked  the  footman,  as  she  gave  him  the  receipt. 

"Your  own  rudeness  and  insult,"  answered  Wilhelmine 
proudly,  as  she  turned,  without  saluting  him,  to  the  sitting- 
room. 

Kretzschmar  laughed  aloud.  "  She  will  play  the  great  and 
proud  lady,"  said  he.  "  She  will  get  over  that  when  in  prison. 
The  letter  is  without  doubt  an  order  of  arrest,  for  when  the 
king  flashes  and  thunders  as  he  did  this  morning,  he  usually 
strikes.  I  hope  it  will  agree  with  you."  He  slowly  left  the 
anteroom,  and  descended  the  stairs  to  mount  his  horse,  which 
he  had  bound  to  a  tree. 

Wilhelmine  hastened  in  the  mean  time  to  the  prince. 
"Here  is  the  letter  addressed  to  me,"  said  she,  handing  him 
the  sealed  envelope.  "I  beg  you  to  open  it;  courage  fails 
me,  every  thing  trembles  and  swims  before  my  eyes.  Bead  it 
aloud — I  will  receive  my  sentence  from  your  lips." 

The  prince  exclaimed,  breaking  the  seal:  "It  is  the  hand- 
writing of  the  secret  cabinet  secretary,  Menken,  and  the  mes- 
sage comes  immediately  from  the  king's  cabinet.  Now, 
Wilhelmine,  do  not  tremble;  lean  your  head  upon  me,  and 
let  us  read." 

"  'In  the  name  of  his  majesty,  Wilhelmine  Enke  is  com- 


THE  OATH  OF  FIDELITY.  59 

manded,  under  penalty  of  severe  punishment,  not  to  leave 
her  room  or  her  dwelling,  until  the  king  shall  permit  her, 
and  send  some  one  to  take  her  and  all  that  belongs  to  her  to 
her  place  of  destination.  She  shall  receive  this  order  with 
patience  and  humility,  and  consider  her  apartment  as  a  prison, 
which  she  shall  not  leave  under  severe  penalty,  nor  allow  any 
one  to  enter  it.  Whoever  may  be  with  her  at  the  time  of  re- 
ceiving the  order,  who  do  not  belong  there,  shall  speedily 
absent  themselves,  and  if  the  same  ride  or  drive  to  Potsdam, 
they  shall  immediately  take  a  message  to  his  royal  highness 
the  Prince  of  Prussia,  and  announce  to  him  that  his  majesty 
expects  him  at  Sans-Souci  at  ten  o'clock  to-morrow  morning. 
The  Minister  von  Herzberg  will  be  in  waiting  to  confer  with 
the  prince.  The  above  is  communicated  to  Wilhelmine  Enke 
for  her  strict  observance,  and  she  will  act  accordingly. '  " 

A  long  silence  followed  the  reading  of  this  letter.  Both 
looked  down,  thoughtfully  recalling  the  contents. 

"A  prisoner,"  murmured  AVilhelmine,  "a  prisoner  in  my 
own  house." 

"  And  for  me  the  peremptory  command  to  leave  immediately 
for  Potsdam,  in  order  to  be  at  Sans-Souci  early  in  the  morn- 
ing. What  can  the  king  mean?" 

"  He  will  announce  to  you  my  imprisonment,  my  exile," 
sighed  Wilhelmine. 

The  crown  prince  shook  his  head.  "No,"  said  he,  "I  do 
not  believe  it.  If  the  king  would  send  you  to  prison,  he 
would  not  make  such  preparation ;  he  would  not  commence 
with  the  house-arrest,  as  if  you  were  an  officer,  who  had  been 
guilty  of  some  slight  insubordination,  but  he  would  act  with 
decision,  as  is  his  wont.  He  would  at  once  have  sent  you  to 
Spandau  or  some  other  prison,  and  left  it  to  me  to  have  taken 
further  steps.  No — the  more  I  think  it  over,  the  more 
evident  it  is  to  me  that  the  king  is  not  really  angry;  he  wL_ 
only  torment  us  a  little,  as  it  pleases  his  teasing  spirit.  The 
chief  thing  now  is  to  obey,  and  give  him  no  further  occasion 
for  anger.  You  must  be  very  careful  not  to  leave  your  apart- 


60  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

ment,  or  to  allow  any  one  to  enter  it.  I  shall  start  without 
delay  for  Potsdam.  There  are  spies  posted  as  well  for  you  as 
myself ;  our  steps  are  watched,  and  an  exact  account  of  them 
given.  I  must  away  quickly." 

"Must  you  leave  me  a  prisoner?  Oh,  how  hard  and  cruel 
life  is!" 

"  Yes,  it  is,  indeed,  Wilhelmine.  But  I  must  also  humbly 
submit  and  obey.  Is  not  life  hard  for  me,  and  yet  I  am 
crown  prince,  the  heir  to  the  throne !  I  shall  be  reprimanded 
and  scolded  like  a  footman.  I  must  obey  as  a  slave,  and  am 
not  permitted  to  act  according  to  my  will.  I  am  only  a  mere 
peg  in  the  great  machine  which  Tie  directs,  and  the — " 

"Hush!  for  mercy's  sake  be  quiet!  What  if  some  one 
should  hear  you  ?  You  know  not  if  the  spies  may  not  be  at 
the  door." 

" True,"  said  the  prince,  bitterly.  " I  do  not  know! .  The 
nurse  even,  who  suckles  our  child,  may  be  a  paid  spy.  The 
owner  of  this  house  may  be  in  the  king's  service,  and  creep 
to  the  door  to  listen.  Therefore  it  is  necessary,  above  all 
things,  that  we  act  according  to  the  king's  commands.  Fare- 
well, Wilhelmine,  I  must  set  off  at  once.  Kretzschmar  is  no 
doubt  at  the  corner  of  the  street  to  see  whether  I,  as  an 
obedient  servant  of  his  master,  leave  here.  If  I  do  it,  he  will 
take  the  news  to  Sans-Souci,  and  perhaps  the  king  will  be 
contented.  Farewell,  I  go  at  once  to  the  palace,  to  start 
from  there  for  Potsdam." 

"  Farewell,  my  beloved  one !  May  God  in  heaven  and  the 
king  upon  earth  be  merciful  to  us !  I  will  force  myself  to 
composure  and  humility.  What  I  suffer  is  for  you !  This 
shall  be  my  consolation.  If  we  never  meet  again,  Frederick 
William,  I  know  you  will  not  forget  how  much  I  have  loved 
you!" 


THE  PAEADE.  61 

CHAPTER    VI. 

THE   PARADE. 

SINCE  early  morning  a  gay,  warlike  life  had  reigned  at 
Potsdam  and  the  neighborhood  of  Sans-Souci.  From  every 
side  splendid  regiments  approached,  with  proud  and  stately 
bearing,  in  glittering  uniforms,  to  take  in  perfect  order  the 
places  assigned  to  them.  With  flying  banners,  drums  beat- 
ing, and  shrill  blasts  of  trumpets,  they  came  marching  on  to 
the  great  parade — the  last,  for  the  king  was  about  to  leave 
for  the  field.  Thousands  of  spectators  poured  forth,  not- 
withstanding the  early  hour,  from  Potsdam ;  and  from  Berlin 
even  they  came  in  crowds,  to  take  a  last  look  of  the  soldiers — 
of  their  king,  who  was  still  the  hero  at  sixty-nine — the  "  Alte 
Fritz,"  whom  they  adored — though  they  felt  the  rigor  of  his 
government.  It  was  a  magnificent  spectacle,  indeed — this 
immense  square,  filled  with  regiments,  their  helmets,  swords, 
and  gold  embroideries  glittering  in  the  May  sun.  Officers, 
mounted  on  richly- caparisoned  steeds,  drew  up  in  the  centre, 
or  galloped  along  the  front  of  the  lines,  censuring  with  a 
thundering  invective  any  deviation  or  irregularity.  In  the 
rear  of  the  troops  stood  the  equipages  of  the  distinguished 
spectators  on  the  one  side,  while  on  the  other  the  people  in 
compact  masses  swayed  to  and  fro,  gayly  passing  judgment 
upon  the  different  regiments  and  their  generals.  The  peo- 
ple— that  means  all  those  who  were  not  rich  enough  to  have 
a  carriage,  or  sufficiently  distinguished  to  claim  a  place  upon 
the  tribune  reserved  for  noble  ladies  and  gentlemen — here 
they  stood,  the  educated  and  uneducated,  shoemaker  and  tail- 
or, savant  and  artist — a  motley  mixture !  Two  gentlemen  of 
the  high  citizen  class  apparently  were  among  the  crowd.  They 
were  dressed  in  the  favorite  style,  which,  since  the  "  Sorrows 
of  Werther"  had  appeared,  was  the  fashion — tight-fitting 
boots,  reaching  to  the  knee,  with  yellow  tops ;  white  breeches. 


62  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

over  which  fell  the  long-bodied  green  vest ;  a  gray  frock  with 
long  pointed  tails  and  large  metal  buttons,  well-powdered 
cue,  tied  with  little  ribbons,  surmounted  with  a  low,  wide- 
brimmed  hat.  Only  one  of  the  gentlemen  wore  the  gray 
frock,  according  to  the  faultless  Werther  costume,  a  young 
man  of  scarcely  thirty  years,  of  fine  figure,  and  proud  bear- 
ing; a  face  expressive  and  sympathetic,  reminding  one  of  the 
glorious  portraits  of  men  which  antiquity  has  bequeathed  to 
us.  It  seemed  like  the  head  of  a  god  descended  to  earth, 
noble  in  every  feature,  full  of  grace  and  beauty ;  the  slightly 
Eoman  nose  well  marked  yet  delicate ;  the  broad,  thoughtful 
brow;  the  cheeks  flushed  with  the  hue  of  youth  and  power; 
the  well-defined  chin  and  red  lips,  expressive  of  goodness,  be- 
nevolence, roguery,  and  haughtiness;  large,  expressive  eyes, 
flashing  with  the  fire  which  the  gods  had  enkindled..  His 
companion  was  perhaps  eight  years  younger,  less  well-propor- 
tioned, still  of  graceful  appearance,  in  his  youthful  freshness, 
with  frank,  cheerful  mien,  clever,  good-natured,  sparkling 
eyes,  and  red,  pouting  lips,  which  never  liked  to  cease  chat- 
ting. 

" See,  "Wolff !  I  beg,"  said  the  young  man,  "see  that  old 
waddling  duck,  Mollendorf.  I  know  the  old  fellow,  he  is 
from  Gotha ;  he  imagines  himself  of  the  greatest  importance, 
and  thinks  Prussia  begets  fame  and  honor  from  his  grace. 
He  trumpets  forth  his  own  glories  at  a  dinner,  and  abuses  his 
king.  He  makes  Frederick  the  Great  an  insignificant  little 
being,  that  he  may  look  over  him." 

"  Unimportant  men  always  do  that,"  answered  the  other. 
"  They  would  make  great  men  small,  and  think  by  placing 
themselves  on  high  pedestals  they  become  great.  The  clown 
striding  through  the  crowd  on  his  stilts  may  even  look  over 
an  emperor.  But  fortunately  there  comes  a  time  when  the 
dear  clown  must  come  down  from  his  stilts,  and  then  it  is 
clear  to  others,  if  not  to  himself,  what  little,  earth-born  snips 
the  men  of  yesterday  are." 

"  Only  look,  Wolff,  there  is  just  such  a  moment  coming  to 


THE  PARADE.  63 

that  stiltsman  Mollendorf.  How  the  great  man  stoops,  and 
how  small  he  looks  on  his  gray  horse,  for  a  greater  springs 
past !  Look  at  him  well,  Wolff — we  shall  dine  with  him,  and 
he  does  not  like  to  be  stared  at  in  the  face." 

"Is  that,  then,  Prince  Henry  passing?"  asked  Wolff,  with 
animation ;  "  that  little  general,  who  just  galloped  into  the 
circle  with  his  suite,  is  that  the  king's  brother?" 

"Yes,  that  is  just  his  misfortune  that  he  is  the  king's 
brother,"  answered  a  deep,  sonorous  voice  behind  them. 

Turning,  they  beheld  a  young,  elegantly-dressed  man,  in 
the  light-gray  frock  and  gold-bordered,  three-cornered  hat, 
and  a  Spanish  cane,  with  an  ivory  handle. 

"What  did  you  remark,  sir?"  asked  Herr  Wolff;  his  great, 
brown  eyes  flashing  over  the  pale,  intellectual  face  of  the 
other,  so  that  he  was  quite  confused,  yet,  as  if  enchanted, 
could  not  turn  away.  "What  did  you  remark,  sir?"  asked 
again  Herr  Wolff. 

"I  believe,"  stammered  the  other,  "that  I  said  it  was  the 
misfortune  of  the  prince  that  he  was  the  brother  only,  as  he 
was  worthy  of  being  mentioned  for  himself ;  but  I  beg,  sir, 
be  a  little  indulgent,  and  do  not  pry  into  my  very  soul  with 
your  godlike  eyes.  It  will  craze  me,  and  I  shall  run  through 
the  streets  of  Berlin,  crying  that  the  Apollo-Belvedere  has  ar- 
rived at  Potsdam,  and  invite  all  the  poets  and  authors  to 
come  and  worship  him." 

"I  believe  you  are  right,"  cried  the  youngest  of  the  two 
gentlemen,  laughing.  "  I  believe  myself  it  is  the  Apollo- 
Belvedere." 

"  Be  still,  my  dear  sir,  hush,  and  preserve  our  incognito," 
interrupted  his  companion. 

"  But  I  cannot  help  it,  Wolff.  Am  I  to  blame  that  this 
clever  fellow  sees  through  your  mask,  and  discovers  the  divine 
spark  which  hides  itself  under  a  gray  Werther  costume?" 

"  I  pray,  sir,  grant  my  request,  and  respect  our  incognito," 
begged  the  other,  gently  but  firmly. 

"Well,  well,  you  shall  have  your  way,"  laughed  the  other, 


64  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

good-naturedly,  and  turning  to  the  pale  young  man,  who  still 
kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  Herr  Wolff  in  a  sort  of  ecstacy,  he  said : 
"Let  the  authors  and  poets  stay  in  Berlin;  we  will  persuade 
the  disguised  Apollo  to  meet  them  there,  and  read  them  a 
lecture,  for  among  the  Berlin  poets  and  critics  there  are 
wicked  heretics,  who,  if  the  Deity  Himself  wrote  tragedies 
and  verses,  would  find  some  fault  to  object  to." 

"Pray  tell  me,  sir,  do  you  think  Prince  Henry  a  great 
man?" 

"Did  not  the  king  call  him  so  in  his  'History  of  the  Seven 
Years'  War?'  "  said  the  stranger.  "Did  he  not  publicly,  in 
the  presence  of  all  his  generals,  say,  'that  Prince  Henry  was 
the  only  general  who  had  not  made  a  mistake  during  the 
whole  war?' " 

"  Do  you  believe  the  king  will  say  that  of  the  prince  just 
riding  in  with  his  suite,  after  the  present  war?"  asked  the 
young  man,  with  earnestness. 

"You  mean  the  Prince  of  Prussia,"  answered  the  other, 
shaking  his  head.  "  There  are  men  who  call  this  prince  the 
'hope  of  Prussia,'  and  regard  him  as  a  new  Aurora  in  the 
clouded  sky." 

"And  you,  sir,  do  you  regard  him  so?"  cried  Herr  Wolff. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  the  Prince  of  Prussia  will  usher  in  a 
brighter  day  for  Germany?" 

"No,"  answered  the  other.  "I  believe  that  day  expires 
with  Frederick  the  Great,  and  that  a  long  night  of  darkness 
will  succeed." 

"Why  do  you  think  so?" 

"  Because  it  is  the  course  of  nature  that  darkness  succeeds 
light.  Look  at  the  prince,  gentlemen— the  divine  light  oi 
genius  is  not  stamped  upon  his  brow,  as  formerly,  and  care 
will  be  taken  that  it  is  soon  extinguished  altogether." 

"Who  will  take  care?" 

"  Those  who  are  the  enemies  of  light,  civilization,  and 
freedom." 

"  Who  are  they?"  asked  Herr  Wolff. 


1HE  PARADE.  65 

The  other  smiled,  and  answered:  "Sir,  so  far  as  I,  in  all 
humility,  call  myself  a  scholar,  I  also  owe  to  the  god  Apollo 
obedience,  and  must  answer  him,  though  it  may  endanger 
me.  I  answer,  then,  the  enemies  of  light  and  civilization  are 
the  disguised  Jesuits." 

"  Oh,  it  is  easy  to  perceive  that  you  do  not  belong  to  them, 
or  you  would  not  thus  characterize  them,  and — " 

A  mighty  flourish  of  drums,  and  shrill  blasts  of  horns  and 
trumpets,  drowned  the  youth's  words,  and  made  all  further 
conversation  impossible.  The  king,  followed  by  a  brilliant 
suite,  had  just  arrived  at  the  parade.  The  regiments  greeted 
their  sovereign  with  loud  blasts  of  trumpets,  and  the  people 
shouted  their  farewell.  Frederick  lifted  lightly  his  hat,  and 
rode  along  the  ranks  of  the  well-ordered  troops.  He  listened 
to  the  shouts  with  calm,  composed  manner;  the  Jupiter- 
flashes  from  his  great  eyes  seemed  to  be  spent  forever. 
Mounted  upon  Caesar,  his  favorite  horse,  he  looked  to-day 
more  bent,  his  back  more  bowed  with  the  burden  of  years ; 
and  it  was  plainly  visible  that  the  hand  which  held  the  staff 
crosswise  over  the  horse's  neck,  holding  at  the  same  time  the 
bridle,  trembled  from  very  weakness. 

"  That  is  Frederick,"  said  Herr  Wolff  to  himself.  "  That 
is  the  hero  before  whom  Europe  has  trembled;  the  daring 
prince  who  caused  the  sun  to  rise  upon  his  country,  and 
awaken  the  spirits  to  cheerful  life.  Oh,  how  lamentable,  how 
much  to  be  regretted,  that  a  hero,  too,  can  grow  feeble  and 
old!  Oh,  cruel  fate,  that  the  noblest  spirits  embodied  in  this 
fragile  humanity,  and — " 

Suddenly  he  ceased,  and  looked  at  the  king  amazed  and 
with  admiration.  The  old  man  had  become  the  hero  again. 
The  bowed  form  was  erect,  the  face  beamed  with  energy  and 
conscious  power,  the  eyes  flashed  with  bold  daring,  strong  and 
sonorous  was  the  voice.  The  king  had  turned  to  his  generals, 
who  were  drawn  up  around  him  in  a  large  circle,  saying: 
"  Gentlemen,  I  come  to  take  leave  of  you.  We  shall  meet 
again  upon  the  battle-field,  where  laurels  bloom  for  the  brave. 


66  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

I  hope  that  we  may  all  return,  crowned  with  fresh  laurels. 
Tell  my  soldiers  that  I  count  upon  them — that  I  know  they 
will  prove  the  glory  of  the  Prussian  troops  anew,  and  that 
on  the  day  of  battle  they  will  see  me  at  their  head. — Fare- 
well!" 

"  Long  live  the  king!"  cried  the  generals  and  staff-officers, 
in  one  voice.  The  people  and  the  soldiers  joined  the  shout, 
the  ladies  waved  their  handkerchiefs.  Herr  Wolff  and  his 
companions  tore  off  their  hats  with  enthusiasm,  and  swung 
them  high  in  the  air. 

The  great  eyes  of  the  king,  who  passed  at  this  moment, 
rested  upon  Herr  Wolff.  "  My  heart  quaked  as  if  I  were  the 
pillar  of  Memnon,  and  had  been  touched  by  the  sun's  rays," 
sighed  he,  as  he  followed  the  king  with  his  fiery  glance. 

"  The  ceremony  is  now  finished,"  said  the  young  man  .near 
him,  "  and  we  must  leave,  in  order  to  he  punctual  to  dinner 
at  Prince  Henry's." 

"I  wish  the  king  had  remained  an  hour  longer,"  sighed 
Herr  Wolff  again.  "As  I  looked  at  him,  it  seemed  as  if  I 
were  listening  to  a  song  from  Homer,  and  all  my  faculties 
were  in  unison  in  delight  and  enthusiasm.  Happy  those  who 
dare  approach  him,  and  remain  near  him!" 

"  Then,  according  to  your  opinion,  his  servants  must  btf 
very  fortunate,"  said  the  stranger,  "and  yet  they  %y  that  he 
is  not  very  kind  to  them." 

"Because  the  servant  is  a  little  man,"  cried  Herr  Wolff, 
"  and  every  one  looks  little  to  his  belittling  eyes." 

"  Yes,  there  are  many  others  no  more  elevated  than  servantf 
in  the  king's  surroundings,"  said  the  other.  The  youth  re- 
minded him  that  they  must  leave. 

"Only  wait  a  moment,  friend,"  begged  Herr  Wolff,  as  he 
turned  to  the  stranger,  saying,  "  I  would  like  to  continue  our 
conversation  of  to-day.  You  live  in  Berlin.  I  will  find  you 
out  if  you  will  give  me  your  name." 

"  I  pray  you  to  visit  me ;  my  name  is  Moritz.  I  live  in 
Kloster  Strasse,  near  the  gray  convent." 


THE  PARADE.  67 

"Your  name  is  Moritz?"  asked  Herr  Wolff,  earnestly. 
44  Then  you  are  the  author  of  the  'Journey  to  England?'  " 

"Yes,  the  same,  and  my  highest  encomium  is,  that  the 
work  is  not  unknown  to  you,  or  the  name  of  the  author." 

"  All  Germany  knows  it,  and  do  you  think  I  could  possibly 
remain  a  stranger  to  it?" 

"  But  your  name,  sir,"  said  the  stranger,  with  anxious  curi- 
osity. "  Will  you  not  give  me  your  name?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  when  we  are  in  your  own  room,"  said  Herr 
Wolff,  smiling. 

"  The  air  is  yet  enchanted  and  intoxicated  with  the  breath 
of  the  Great  Frederick;  it  should  not  be  desecrated  with  an- 
other name. — Farewell,  we  will  meet  in  Berlin." 

Not  far  from  these  gentlemen  stood  two  others,  wrapped  in 
long  military  cloaks,  both  of  striking  and  foreign  appear- 
ance ;  the  one,  of  slight  delicate  figure,  of  dark  complexion, 
noble  and  handsome  face,  must  be  an  Italian,  as  his  very  black 
hair  and  eyes  betrayed ;  the  other,  tall,  broad-shouldered,  of 
Herculean  stature,  belonged  to  North  Germany,  as  the  blond 
hair,  light-blue  eyes,  and  features  indicated.  A  pleasing 
smile  played  around  his  thick,  curled  lips,  and  only  when 
he  glanced  at  his  companion  did  it  die  away,  and  change 
to  one  of  respectful  devotion.  At  this  instant  the  king 
passed.  The  Italian  pressed  the  arm  of  his  companion. 
"The  arch-fiend  himself,"  he  murmured  softly,  "the  demon 
of  unbelief,  to  whom  nothing  is  sacred,  and  nothing  intim- 
idates. The  contemptuously  smiling  spirit  of  negation,  which 
is  called  enlightenment,  and  is  but  darkness,  to  whom  belief  is 
superstition,  and  enlightening  only  deception.  Woe  to  him!" 

"  Woe  to  him!"  repeated  the  other. 

The  king  was  followed  by  his  brilliant  and  select  staff  in 
motley  confusion.  First,  Prince  Henry,  and  then  the  Prince 
of  Prussia.  As  the  latter  passed  the  two  gentlemen,  the 
Italian  pressed  the  arm  of  his  companion  still  harder.  "  Look 
at  him  attentively,  my  son,"  said  he,  "  that  is  our  future  and 
our  hope  in  this  country." 


68  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

The  Hercules  turned  hastily,  with  a  look  of  astonishment, 
to  the  Italian.  "  The  Prince  of  Prussia?"  asked  he,  with 
amazement. 

The  Italian  nodded.  "Do  you  doubt  it?"  he  added,  re- 
proachfully. "Would  you  doubt  your  lord  and  master, 
because  he  reveals  to  you  what  you  cannot  seize  with  your 
clouded  spirit?" 

"No,  no,  master,  I  am  only  surprised  that  you  hope  for 
good  from  this  lost-in-sin  successor  to  the  throne." 

"Yes,  you  are  poor,  human  children,"  sighed  the  Italian, 
compassionately  smiling;  "prompt  to  judge,  mistaking  light 
for  darkness,  and  darkness  for  light.  I  have  already  re- 
marked that  to  the  celebrated  and  austere  Minister  Sully,  as 
he  complained  to  me  of  the  levity  and  immorality  of  the 
French  king,  Henry  IV.  I  told  him  that  austere  morals  and 
moral  laws  suffered  exceptions,  and  that  those  through  whom 
the  welfare  of  humanity  should  be  furthered,  had  to  transfer 
their  heavenly  bliss  of  love  to  the  earthly  sphere.  Sully  would 
contest  the  question  with  me,  but  I  defeated  him,  while  I 
repeated  to  him  what  the  beautiful  and  unhappy  Queen  of 
Scotland,  Mary  Stuart,  once  said  to  me." 

"Mary  Stuart!"  cried  the  other,  vehemently. 

"Yes,  Mary  Stuart,"  answered  the  Italian,  earnestly. 

"  Come,  my  son,  let  us  go.  We  have  seen  what  we  wished 
to  see,  and  that  is  sufficient.  Give  me  thy  arm,  and  let  us 
depart." 

They  departed  arm  in  arm,  withdrawing  from  the  crowd, 
and  taking  the  broad  walk  which  crossed  to  the  park. 

"  You  were  about  to  relate  to  me  the  answer  which  Mary 
Stuart  gave  to  you,  sir,"  said  the  Hercules,  timidly. 

"True;  I  will  now  relate  it  to  you,"  he  answered,  with 
sadness.  "  It  was  in  Edinburgh  I  had  surprised  Mary  (as  I 
was  admitted  without  ceremony),  in  her  boudoir,  as  the 
handsome  Rizzio  sat  at  her  feet,  and  sang  love-songs  to  her. 
She  was  resting  upon  a  gold-embroidered  divan,  and  her  fig- 
ure appeared  to  great  advantage  in  the  heavenly-blue,  silver- 


THE  PARADE.  69 

embroidered  gauze  robe,  which  covered  her  beautiful  limbs 
like  a  cloud.  In  her  hair  sparkled  two  diamonds,  like  two 
stars  fallen  from  heaven,  and  more  glowing  still  were  her 
eyes,  which  tenderly  rested  upon  Kizzio.  Leaning  upon  her 
elbow,  she  inclined  toward  Eizzio,  who,  lute  in  hand,  was 
looking  up  to  her  with  a  countenance  expressive  of  the  deep- 
est love.  It  was  a  glorious  picture,  this  young  and  charming 
couple,  in  their  bliss  of  love;  and  never,  in  the  course  of 
this  century,  have  I  forgotten  this  exquisite  picture — never 
have  its  bright  tints  faded  from  my  memory.  How  often 
have  I  begged  my  friend,  Antonio  Vandyck,  to  make  this 
picture  eternal,  with  his  immortal  pencil.  He  promised  to 
do  it,  but  at  the  moment  he  was  occupied  with  the  portraits 
of  Charles  I.  and  his  family — the  grandson  of  Queen  Mary. 
Later,  as  I  was  not  with  him,  unfortunately,  to  save  him, 
death  seized  him  before  he  had  fulfilled  his  promise.  But 
her  image  is  stamped  upon  my  heart,  and  I  see  her  now,  as  I 
saw  her  then,  the  beautiful  queen,  with  the  handsome  singer 
at  her  feet.  I  had  entered  unawares,  and  stood  a  few  mo- 
ments at  the  door  before  they  remarked  me.  As  I  approached, 
Rizzio  suddenly  ceased  in  the  midst  of  a  tender  passage,  and 
sprang  to  his  feet.  Mary  signed  to  him,  blushing,  to  with- 
draw. He  glided  noiselessly  out,  his  lute  under  his  arm,  and 
I  remained  alone  with  the  queen.  I  dared  to  chide  her, 
gently,  for  her  love-affair  with  the  handsome  singer,  and, 
above  all,  to  exhort  her  to  fidelity  to  her  husband.  Where- 
upon Mary  answered  me,  with  her  accustomed  smiling  man- 
ner, 'There  is  but  one  fidelity  which  one  must  recognize,  and 
that  is  to  the  god  of  gods — Love!  Where  he  is  not,  I  will 
not  be.  The  god  Hymen  is  a  tedious,  pedantic  fellow,  who 
burns  to  ashes  all  the  fresh  young  love  of  the  heart,  and  all 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  soul,  with  his  intolerable  tallow  torch, 
for  Love  stands  not  at  his  side.  I  am  faithful  to  the  god 
Amor,  therefore  I  can  never  be  faithful  to  the  god  Hymen,  as 
it  would  be  unfaithful  to  Love!'  That  was  the  response  of 
the  beautiful  Queen  Mary.  I  could  not  contest  the  question, 


70  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

so  I  only  looked  at  her  and  smiled.  Suddenly,  I  felt  a  dagv 
ger,  as  it  were,  thrust  at  my  heart,  my  spiritual  eyes  were 
opened,  the  lovely  woman  on  the  divan  was  fearfully  changed. 
Instead  of  the  gauze  robe,  sparkling  with  silver,  a  black  cloth 
dress  covered  her  emaciated  limbs;  instead  of  brilliants, 
sparkling  in  her  hair,  a  mourning  veil  covered  her  whitened 
locks.  The  beauty  and  roundness  of  her  neck  had  dis- 
appeared, and  I  saw  around  it  a  broad  dark-red  stripe.  Her 
head  moved,  and  fell  at  my  feet  dissevered.  I  saw  it  all,  as 
distinctly  as  if  it  really  happened,  and  seized  with  unspeak- 
able pity  I  prostrated  myself  at  her  feet  (who  was  unknowing 
of  my  vision),  and  besought  her  with  all  the  anxiety  and 
tenderness  of  friendship  to  leave  Scotland,  to  fly  from  Eng- 
land, as  there  the  death-tribunal  awaited  her.  But  Mary 
Stuart  only  laughed  at  my  warning,  and  called  me  a  melan- 
choly fool,  whom  jealousy  made  prophetic.  The  more  I 
begged  and  implored,  the  more  wanton  and  gay  the  poor 
woman  became.  Then,  as  I  saw  all  persuasion  was  vain,  that 
no  one  could  save  her  from  her  dreadful  fate,  I  took  a  solemn 
oath  that  I  would  be  at  her  side  at  the  hour  of  her  peril,  and 
accompany  her  to  the  scaffold.  Mary  laughed  aloud,  and, 
with  that  mocking  gayety  so  peculiarly  her  own,  she  accepted 
the  oath,  and  reached  me  her  white  hand,  sparkling  with 
diamonds,  to  seal  the  vow  with  a  kiss.  I  faithfully  kept  it. 
I  had  but  just  arrived  in  Eome  when  I  received  the  account 
of  her  imprisonment.  I  presented  myself  immediately  to  the 
pope,  the  great  Sixtus  V.,  who  then  occupied  the  chair  of  St. 
Peter.  Fortunately,  he  was  my  friend,  and  I  had  formerly 
been  useful  to  him,  in  assisting  him  to  carry  out  his  great  and 
liberal  ideas  for  the  welfare  of  humanity.  As  a  return,  I 
prayed  the  Holy  Father  to  give  me  a  consecrated  hostie  for 
the  unhappy  Queen  Mary  Stuart,  and  the  permission  to  carry 
it  to  her  in  her  prison.  The  Holy  Father  was  incredulous  of 
my  sad  presentiments,  as  Mary  Stuart  herself  had  been,  but 
"he  granted  me  the  request.  I  quitted  Eome,  and  travelled 
with  relays  day  and  night.  Reaching  Boulogne,  a  Dover 


THE   PARADE.  71 

packet-boat  had  just  raised  anchor;  I  succeeded  in  boarding 
her,  and  arrived  in  London  the  next  evening.  The  day 
following,  the  execution  of  the  queen  took  place  at  Fother- 
ingay.  I  was  with  her  in  her  last  hours,  and  from  my  hand 
she  received  the  consecrated  wafer  of  Pope  Sixtus  V.  I  had 
kept  my  oath.  I  accompanied  her  to  the  scaffold,  and  her 
head  rolled  at  my  feet,  as  I  had  seen  it  in  my  vision  at  Edin- 
burgh. It  was  the  18th  of  April,  1587,  and  it  seems  to  me 
as  but  yesterday.  To  the  intuitive,  seeing  spirit,  time  and 
space  disappear;  eternity  and  immortality  are  to  it  omni- 
present." 

Given  up  to  his  souvenirs  and  visions,  the  Italian  appeared 
not  to  know  where  he  wandered,  and  turned  unintentionally 
to  the  retired,  lonely  places  in  the  park.  His  companion 
heeded  not  the  way  either,  occupied  with  the  strange  account 
of  the  Italian.  A  dreadful  feeling  of  awe  and  horror  took 
possession  of  his  soul,  and,  with  devoted  respect,  he  hung  upon 
the  words  which  fell  from  the  lips  of  his  companion. 

"It  was  in  the  year  1587,"  said  he,  as  the  Italian  ceased; 
"almost  two  hundred  years  since,  and  you  were  present?" 

The  Italian  replied :  "  I  was  present.  I  have  witnessed  so 
many  dreadful  scenes,  and  been  present  at  so  many  execu- 
tions, that  this  sad  spectacle  was  not  an  unusual  one  to  me, 
and  would  not  have  remained  fixed  in  my  memory  had  I  not 
loved,  devotedly  and  fervently,  the  beautiful  Queen  Mary 
Stuart.  For  those  who  live  in  eternity,  all  horrors  have 
ceased ;  time  rushes  past  in  centuries,  which  seem  to  them 
but  a  day." 

"Teach  me  so  to  live,  master;  I  thirst  for  knowledge," 
cried  his  companion,  fervently. 

"  I  know  it,  my  son ;  I  penetrate  thy  soul,  and  I  know  that 
thou  thirstest.  Therefore  I  am  here  to  quench  thy  thirst, 
and  feed  thy  hungry  heart. "  He  remained  standing  upon 
the  grass-plot,  which  he  had  reached  by  lonely  paths,  and 
which  was  encircled  by  trees  and  bushes.  Not  a  sound  inter- 
rupted the  peaceful  morning  stillness  of  the  place,  except  the 


72  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  EEA. 

distant  music  of  the  departing  regiments  dying  away  on  the 
air.  "I  will  teach  thee  to  live  in  eternity!"  resumed  the 
Italian,  solemnly.  "  My  predecessor  the  apostle,  George 
Schrepfer,  has  initiated  thee  in  temporal  life,  and  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  present.  By  the  pistol-shot,  which  disclosed  to 
him  the  invisible  world,  and  removed  him  from  our  earthly 
eyes,  has  he  to  thee,  his  most  faithful  and  believing  disciple, 
given  the  great  doctrine  of  the  decay  of  all  things  earthly, 
and  prepared  thee  for  the  doctrine  of  the  imperishableness  of 
the  celestial.  The  original  of  humanity  sends  me,  to  make 
known  to  thee  this  holy  doctrine.  When  I  met  thee  in  Dres- 
den, at  the  side  of  the  Countess  Dorothea  von  Medem,  thee, 
whom  I  had  never  seen,  I  recognized  by  the  blue  flame  which 
trembled  above  thy  head,  and  which  was  nothing  else  than 
the  soul  of  thy  teacher,  Schrepfer,  wrestling  in  anguish, 
which  has  remained  with  thee,  and  hopes  for  delivery  from 
thee.  I  greeted  thee,  therefore,  not  as  a  stranger  but  as  a 
friend.  No  one  called  thy  name,  and  yet  it  was  known  to  me. 
I  took  thee  by  the  hand,  greeting  thee.  Hans  Eudolph  von 
Bischofswerder,  be  welcome.  The  blue  flame  which  glows 
upon  thy  brow,  guides  me  to  thee,  and  the  pistol-shot  under 
the  oaks  centuries  old,  at  Eosenthal,  near  Leipsic,  was  the 
summons  which  my  spirit  received  among  the  pyramids  of 
Egypt,  and  which  recalled  me  to  Europe,  to  my  own,  and 
thou  art  one  of  them."  * 

"  And  as  thou  spakest,  oh  master,  I  recognized  thee,  and  I 
called — 'Thou  art  here,  who  hast  been  announced  to  me. 
Thou  art  the  master,  and  my  master  Schrepfer  was  the 
prophet,  who  preceded  thee  and  prophesied  thee.  Thou  art 
the  great  Kophta — thou  art  Count  Alexander  Cagliostro!' 

*  George  Schrepfer,  the  founder  of  the  Secret  Free  Mason  Lodge  (at  the  same  time 
proprietor  of  a  restaurant  and  a  conjuror),  invited  his  intimate  disciples  and  be- 
lievers, in  theyear  1774,  to  whom  Bischofswerder  belonged,  to  meet  him  at  Rosen- 
thai,  near  Leipsic.  He  assembled  them  around  him,  beneath  some  old  oaks,  to  take 
leave  of  them,  as  now  he  would  render  himself  in  the  invisible  realm,  whence,  as  a 
spirit,  he  would  distribute  to  some  of  his  disciples  gold,  to  others  wisdom.  He  then 
commanded  them  to  conceal  their  faces  and  pray.  The  praying  ones  suddenly  heard 
a  loud  report,  and,  as  they  looked  un  s^hrepf er  fell  dead.  He  had  shot  himself  with 
a  pistol. 


THE  PARADE.  73 

As  I  uttered  the  name,  the  lights  were  extinguished,  deep 
darkness  and  profound  stillness  reigned.  The  two  countesses 
Dorothea  von  Medem  and  her  sister,  Eliza  von  der  Necke,  clung 
trembling  to  me,  neither  of  them  daring  to  break  the  silence 
even  with  a  sigh.  Suddenly  the  darkness  disappeared,  and, 
with  trembling  flashes  of  light,  there  stood  written  on  the 
wall:  ''Memento  Domini  Cagliostro  et  omnis  mansuetudinis 
ejus. '  We  sank  upon  our  knees,  and  implored  thee  to  aid  us. 
By  degrees  the  strange,  secret  characters  disappeared,  and 
darkness  and  silence  reigned.  The  stillness  disquieted  me  at 
lasi:,  and  I  called  for  lights.  As  the  servant  entered,  the 
two  countesses  lay  fainting  upon  the  floor,  and  thou  hadst 
disappeared." 

"  Only  to  appear  to  thee  at  another  time,"  said  Cagliostro, 
*'  to  receive  thee  with  solemn  ceremonies  into  the  magic  cir- 
cle— to  initiate  thee  in  the  secret  wisdom  of  spirits,  and  pre- 
pare thee  for  the  invisible  lodge.  Recall  what  I  said  to  thee, 
three  days  since,  in  Dresden.  Do  you  still  remember  it?" 

"I  recall  it.  Thou  saidst:  'The  secret  service  calls  me  to 
Mittau,  with  the  Countess  Medem,  to  raise  hidden  treasure, 
of  which  the  spirit  has  given  me  knowledge,  and  decipher 
important  magical  characters  on  the  walls  of  a  cloister.  Be- 
fore I  leave,  I  will  lead  thee  upon  the  way  which  thou  hast  to 
follow  in  order  to  find  the  light,  and  let  it  illuminate  the  soul 
which  is  worthy.  Follow  me,  and  I  will  lead  thee  to  the  path 
of  glory,  power,  and  immortality.'  These  were  thy  words, 
my  master." 

"I  have  now  led  thee  hither,"  Cagliostro  said  to  him, 
gently;  "thy  soul  doubts  and  trembles,  for  thou  art  blind 
with  seeing  eyes,  and  deaf  with  hearing  ears. " 

"  My  soul  doubts  not,  oh  master — it  comprehends  not.  I 
have  followed  thee,  devotedly  and  believingly.  Thou  knowest 
it,  master,  for  thou  readest  the  souls  of  thy  children,  and 
seest  their  hidden  thoughts.  Thou  hast  said  to  me  in  Dres- 
den, '  Renounce  your  service  to  the  Duke  of  Courland. '  I  did 
it,  and  from  equerry  and  lord  chamberlain  to  the  duke,  be- 
6 


74  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

came  a  simple,  private  gentleman.  I  have  renounced  my 
titles  and  dignities  for  thee,  in  happy  trust  in  thee.  My 
future  lies  in  thy  hands,  and,  anxious  to  learn  the  mysteries 
of  immortality,  as  a  grateful,  trustful  scholar,  I  would  receive 
happiness  and  unhappiness  at  thy  hand." 

"Thou  shalt  receive  not  only  happiness,"  said  Cagliostro, 
solemnly,  "  but  thou  art  one  of  the  elect.  The  blue  flame 
glows  upon  thy  brow,  it  will  illuminate  thy  soul,  and  lead 
thee  to  the  path  of  glory,  power,  and  might.  To-day  thou 
art  a  simple,  private  gentleman,  as  thou  sayst,  but  to-morrow 
thou  wilt  become  a  distinguished  lord,  before  whom  hundreds 
will  bow.  Fame  awaits  thee — which  thou  hast  longed  for — 
as  power  awaits  thee.  Whom  have  I  named  to  thee  as  our 
future  and  our  hope  in  this  land?" 

"Prince  Frederick  William  of  Prussia,"  answered  Herr  von 
Bischofswerder,  humbly. 

"  As  I  spake  this  name,  thou  trembledst,  and  calledst  him 
'one  lost  in  sin.'  Knowest  thou,  my  son,  from  sin  comes 
penitence,  and  from  penitence  elevation  and  purification. 
Thou  art  called  and  chosen  to  convert  sinners,  and  lead  back 
the  earth-born  child  to  heaven.  Engrave  these  words  upon 
thy  memory,  fill  thy  soul  with  them,  as  with  glowing  flames, 
repeat  them  in  solitude  the  entire  day,  then  heavenly  spirits 
will  arise  and  whisper  the  revelations  of  the  future.  Then, 
when  thou  art  consecrated,  I  will  introduce  thee  into  the 
sacred  halls  of  sublime  wisdom.  Thou  shalt  be  received  as  a 
scholar  in  the  temple  hall,  and  it  depends  upon  thee  whether 
thou  advancest  to  the  altar  which  reaches  to  the  invisible 
world  of  miracles." 

"Oh,  master,"  cried  Bischofswerder,  with  a  countenance 
beaming  with  joy,  and  sinking  upon  his  knees,  "  wilt  thou 
favor  me,  and  introduce  me  to  the  temple  hail?  Shall  I  be 
received  in  the  sacred  world  of  spirits?" 

"Thou  shalt,  Hans  Rudolph  von  Bischofswerder.  The 
grand  master  of  our  order  will  bestow  upon  thee  this  happi- 
ness, and  to-night  shall  the  star  of  the  future  rise  over  thee. 


THE  MIRACULOUS  ELIXIR.  75 

Hold  thyself  in  readiness.  At  midnight,  present  thyself  at 
the  first  portal  of  the  royal  palace  in  Berlin.  A  man  will 
meet  thee,  and  thou  shalt  ask,  'Who  is  our  hope?'  If  he  an- 
swers thee,  '  The  Prince  of  Prussia, '  then  he  is  the  messenger 
which  I  shall  have  sent  thee — follow  him.  Bow  thy  head  in 
humility,  shut  thine  eyes  to  all  earthly  things,  turn  thy 
thoughts  inward,  and  lift  them  up  to  the  great  departed, 
which  hovers  over  thy  head,  and  speak  with  the  blue  flame 
which  glows  upon  thy  brow!" 

Bischofswerder  bowed  still  lower,  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands,  as  if  inwardly  praying,  and  knelt.  Cagliostro  bent 
over  him,  laid  his  hand  upon  his  head,  breathing  three  times 
upon  his  blond  hair. 

"  I  have  breathed  upon  thee  with  the  breath  of  my  spirit," 
said  he.  "  Thy  spirit  receives  power.  Receive  it  in  holy  awe, 
in  devotion,  and  remain  immovable." 

Bischofswerder  continued  motionless,  with  bowed  head  and 
concealed  face.     Cagliostro  raised  himself,  his  black  eyes  fixed 
upon   his  disciple,  and  noiselessly   disappeared.     Herr    von 
Bischofswerder  still  remained  kneeling.     After  some  time  he 
raised  his  head,  shyly  looking  about,  and,  as  he  found  himself 
alone,  he  rose.     "  He  has  soared  away,"  he  murmured,  softly 
"  I  shall  see  him  again,  and  he  will  consecrate  me — the  con 
secration  of  immortals!" 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE  MIKACULOUS   ELIXIR. 

THE  king  withdrew  from  the  parade  slowly,  followed  by  his 
generals,  in  the  direction  of  Sans-Souci.  The  streets  of  Pots- 
dam were  lined  with  the  people,  shouting  their  farewell  to 
the  king,  who  received  them  with  a  smiling  face.  Arriving 
at  the  grand  entrance,  he  turned  to  his  suite,  saying,  "  Gentle- 
men, we  shall  meet  again  in  Bohemia;  I  must  now  take  leave 


76  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

of  you,  and  forego  the  pleasure  of  receiving  you  again  to-day. 
A  king  about  to  leave  for  the  field  has  necessary  arrangements 
to  make  for  the  future.  I  have  much  to  occupy  me,  as  I  set 
out  early  to-morrow  morning.  You,  also,  have  duties  to  at- 
tend to.  Farewell,  gentlemen. " 

He  raised  his  worn-out  three-cornered  hat,  saluted  his  gen- 
erals with  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head,  and  turned  into 
the  broad  avenue  which  led  to  the  park  of  Sans-Souci.  No 
one  followed  him  but  two  mounted  footmen,  who  rode  at  a 
respectful  distance,  attentively  regarding  the  king,  of  whom 
only  the  bowed  back  and  hat  were  visible.  Half  way  down 
the  avenue  his  staff  was  raised  above  his  hat,  the  sign  the 
footmen  awaited  to  dismount  with  the  greyhounds,  which  rode 
before  them  upon  the  saddle.  At  the  shrill  barking  of  the 
animals,  Frederick  reined  in  his  horse,  and  turned  to. look 
for  them.  They  bounded  forward,  one  upon  each  side  of  the 
king,  who  regarded  them  right  and  left,  saying :  "  Well, 
Alkmene,  well  Diana,  let  us  see  who  will  be  the  lady  of 
honor  to-day." 

Both  dogs  sprang  with  loud  barking  to  the  horse,  as  if 
understanding  the  words  of  their  master.  Alkmene,  stronger, 
or  more  adroit,  with  one  bound  leaped  to  the  saddle;  while 
poor  Diana  landed  upon  the  crouper,  and,  as  if  ashamed, 
with  hanging  head  and  tail,  withdrew  behind  the  horse. 

"Alkmene  has  won!"  said  Kretzschmar  to  his  companion. 

"  Yes,  Alkmene  is  the  court-lady  to-day,  and  Diana  the 
companion,"  he  nodded.  "  She  will  be  cross,  and  I  do  not 
blame  her." 

"Nor  I,"  said  Kretzschmar;  "there  is  a  great  difference 
between  the  court-lady  and  the  companion.  The  lady  re- 
mains with  the  king  all  day;  he  plays  with  her,  takes  her  to 
walk,  gives  her  bonbons,  and  the  choice  morsels  of  chicken, 
and  only  when  she  has  eaten  sufficient,  can  the  companion 
enter  to  eat  the  remainder. "  * 

*  This  was  the  daily  order  of  rank  with  the  favorite  dogs,  for  whose  service  two 
dog-lackeys,  as  they  were  called,  were  always  in  waiting  They  took  them  to  walk 


THE  MIRACULOUS  ELIXIR.  77 

"One  could  almost  envy  the  king's  greyhounds!"  sighed 
the  second  footman.  "  We  get  dogs'  wages,  and  they  the 
chicken  and  good  treatment.  It  is  a  pity!" 

"The  worst  of  it  is,  the  king  forbids  us  to  marry!"  said 
Kretzschmar,  sadly.  "  All  the  others  would  leave  him,  but  I 
pay  no  attention  to  old  Fritz's  snarling  and  scolding,  for  he 
pays  for  it  afterward ;  first,  it  rains  abusive  words,  then  dol- 
lars, and  if  the  stupid  ass  hits  me  over  the  head,  he  gives  me 
at  least  a  ducat  for  it.  Why  should  not  one  endure  scoldings 
when  he  is  well  paid  for  it?  I  remain  the  fine  handsome  fel- 
low that  I  am,  if  the  old  bear  does  call  me  an  ass !  His  maj- 
esty might  well  be  satisfied  if  he  had  my  fine  figure  and  good 
carriage." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  we  are  very  different  fellows  from  old  Fritz!" 
said  the  second  lackey,  with  a  satisfied  air.  "  A  princess  once 
thought  me  a  handsome  fellow!  It  is  eleven  years  since,  as  I 
entered  the  guards  on  account  of  my  delicate  figure.  I  was 
guard  of  honor  in  the  anteroom  of  the  former  crown  princess 
of  Prussia.  It  was  my  first  experience.  I  did  not  know  the 
ways  of  the  lords  and  ladies.  Suddenly,  a  charming  and 
beautifully-dressed  lady  came  into  the  anteroom,  two  other 
young  ladies  following  her,  joking  and  laughing,  quite  at  their 
pleasure.  All  at  once  the  elegantly-attired  lady  fixed  her 
large  black  eyes  upon  me,  so  earnestly,  that  I  grew  quite  red, 
and  looked  down.  'See  that  handsome  boy, '  she  cried.  'I 
will  bet  that  it  is  a  girl  dressed  up!'  She  ran  up  to  me,  and 
began  to  stroke  my  cheek  with  her  soft  hand,  and  laughed. 
'I  am  right.  He  has  not  the  trace  of  a  beard  ;  it  is  a  girl!' 
And  before  I  knew  it  she  kissed  me,  then  again,  and  a  third 
time  even.  I  stood  still  as  if  enchanted,  and,  as  I  thought 
another  kiss  was  coming,  whack  went  a  stout  box  on  my  ear. 
'There  is  a  punishment  for  you,'  said  she,  'that  you  may 
know  enough  to  return  a  kiss  when  a  handsome  lady  gives  you 

when  the  king  did  not  wish  them  with  him ;  in  summer,  in  an  open  wagon,  the  dogs 
apon  the  back-seat,  and  the  footmen  upon  the  forward  seat,  and  whenever  they  re- 
proved them,  to  bring  them  to  order,  they  addressed  them  in  the  polite  manner  of 
"  Sie." 


78  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

one,  and  not  stand  like  a  lubber, '  and  with  that  she  boxed  me 
again.  The  other  two  ladies  laughed,  which  made  me  angry, 
and  my  ears  were  very  warm.  'If  that  happens  again,'  said 
I,  'by  thunder,  she  will  find  I  do  not  wait  to  be  punished!' 
I  laid  down  the  arms,  and  at  once  sprang  after  the  lady. 
when — the  folding-doors  were  thrown  open,  and  two  gentle- 
men, in  splendid  gold-embroidered  dresses,  entered.  As  they 
saw  the  little  lady,  they  stood  astonished,  and  made  the  three 
prescribed  bows.  I  smelt  the  rat,  and  put  on  my  sword 
quickly,  and  stood  stiff  as  a  puppet.  The  gentlemen  said, 
that  they  must  beg  an  interview  with  her  royal  highness,  to 
deliver  the  king's  commands.  The  princess  went  into  an  ad- 
joining room.  One  of  the  court-ladies  stopped  before  me  a 
moment,  and  said:  'If  you  ever  dare  to  tell  of  this,  you  shall 
be  put  in  the  fortress.  Remember  it,  and  keep  silent; '  I 
did  so,  and  kept  it  a  secret  until  to-day." 

"Did  the  princess  ever  punish  you  again?"  asked  Kretzch- 
mar,  with  a  bold,  spying  look. 

"  No,  never,"  answered  the  lackey  Schultz.  "  The  princess 
was  ordered  to  Stettin  the  next  day,  where  she  still  lives  as  a 
prisoner  for  her  gay  pranks.  I  remembered  her  punishment, 
and  when  a  lady  has  kissed  me,  I  have  bravely  returned  it." 

The  footmen  had  followed  the  king  up  the  slowly  ascending 
horse-path  to  the  terrace,  and  now  they  sprang  quickly  for- 
ward. Kretzschmar  swung  himself  from  his  saddle,  threw 
Schultz  the  reins,  and,  as  the  king  drew  up  at  the  side-door 
of  the  palace  of  Sans-Souci,  he  stood  ready  to  assist  him  tc 
dismount.  The  king  had  given  strict  orders  that  no  one 
should  notice  his  going  or  coming,  and  to-day,  as  usual,  he 
entered  without  pomp  or  ceremony  into  his  private  room,  fol- 
lowed by  Kretzschmar  alone.  He  sank  back  into  his  arm- 
chair, the  blue  damask  covering  of  which  was  torn  and  bitten 
by  the  dogs,  so  that  the  horse-hair  stood  out  from  the  holes. 

"  Now  relate  to  me,  Kretzschmar,  how  your  expedition  suc- 
ceeded. Did  you  go  to  Berlin  to  see  Mademoiselle  Enke  last 
night?" 


THE  MIRACULOUS  ELIXIR.  79 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  I  was  there,  and  have  brought  you  the 
writing." 

"  Was  she  alone?"  asked  the  king,  bending  over  to  caress 
Alkmene,  who  lay  at  his  feet. 

"Well,"  answered  Kretzschmar,  grinning,  "I  do  not  know 
whether  she  was  alone  or  not.  I  only  know  that,  as  I  waited 
a  little  on  the  corner  of  the  street,  I  saw  a  gentleman  go 
out,  wrapped  in  a  cloak,  a  tall,  broad-shouldered  gentleman, 
whom  I — " 

""Whom  you  naturally  did  not  recognize,"  said  the  king, 
interrupting  him ;  "  it  was  a  dark  night,  and  no  moon,  so  that 
you  could  not  see." 

"  At  your  service,  your  majesty,  I  could  see  no  one ;  I  would 
only  add  that  the  unknown  may  have  been  at  Mademoiselle 
Enke's." 

"And  he  may  not  have  been,"  cried  the  king,  harshly. 
""What  else  did  you  learn?" 

"Nothing  at  all  worth  speaking  about.  Only  one  thing  I 
must  say,  the  lackey  Schultz  is  a  prattling  fool,  and  speaks 
very  disrespectfully." 

"Did  he  talk  with  you?" 
"Yes,  your  majesty,  with  me." 

"  Then  he  knows  well  that  it  would  be  welcome.  "What  did 
he  say?" 

"  He  related  to  me  a  love-affair  with  the  crown  princess  of 
Prussia  eleven  years  since.  He  plumes  himself  upon  the 
crown  princess  having  stroked  his  beard." 

"Be  quiet!"  commanded  the  king,  harshly.  "If  Schultz 
was  drunk,  and  talked  in  a  crazy  manner,  how  dare  you  re- 
peat it  to  me?  Let  this  happen  again,  and  I  will  dismiss  you 
my  service.  Eemember  it,  you  ass!" 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  I  thought  I  must  relate  all  that 
I  hear  of  importance." 

"  That  was  not  important,  and  not  worth  the  trouble  of 
talking  about.  If  Schultz  is  such  a  drunken  fellow  I  did  not 
know  it,  and  he  is  to  be  pitied.  You  can  go  now;  I  give  you 


80  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

a  day  to  make  your  farewells  to  your  friends,  and  to  console 
them  with  the  hope  of  meeting  you  again.  Put  every  thing 
in  order  that  concerns  you.  If  you  have  debts,  pay  them." 

"I  have  no  money  to  pay  them,  your  majesty,"  sighed 
Kretzschmar. 

The  king  stepped  to  the  iron  coffer,  of  which  no  one  pos- 
sessed the  key  but  himself,  and  looking  within  said :  "  You 
cannot  have  much  money  to-day,  as  the  drawer  which  con- 
tains the  money  for  the  gossips  and  spies  is  quite  empty,  and 
you  have  had  a  good  share  of  it.  Five  guldens  remain  for 
you." 

"  Alas !  your  majesty,  it  is  too  little ;  twenty-five  guldens 
would  not  pay  my  debts." 

The  king  closed  the  drawer,  saying :  "  Judas  only  received 
twenty  shillings  for  betraying  his  Master.  Twenty-five  i? 
quite  enough  for  Kretzschmar  for  betraying  his  comrade." 

Kretzschmar  slunk  away.  The  king  fixed  his  great  eyes 
upon  him  until  the  door  closed.  "  Man  is  a  miserable  race ; 
for  gold  he  would  sell  his  own  brother — would  sell  his  own 
soul,  if  there  could  be  found  a  purchaser,"  he  murmured. 
"  Why  do  you  growl,  Alkmene,  why  trouble  yourself,  ma- 
demoiselle? I  was  not  speaking  of  your  honorable  race;  only 
of  the  pitiful  race  of  men.  Be  quiet,  my  little  dog,  be  quiet; 
I  love  you,  and  you  are  my  dear  little  dog,"  he  said,  pressing 
her  caressingly  to  his  breast. 

The  footman  Schultz  appeared  to  announce  the  equerry 
Von  Schwerin. 

"  Bid  him  enter,"  nodded  the  king. 

Von  Schwerin  entered,  with  a  smiling  face.  "  Have  you 
accomplished  what  I  confided  to  you?" 

With  a  profound  bow  Von  Schwerin  drew  a  roll  of  papers 
from  his  breast-pocket,  and  handed  it  to  the  king,  saying,  "  I 
am  so  fortunate  as  to  have  accomplished  your  commands." 

"  Will  Count  Schmettau  give  up  the  villa  at  once?" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  the  new  occupant  could  take  possession 
to-day,  with  all  the  furniture  and  house  arrangements,  for 


THE  MIRACULOUS  ELIXIR.  81 

seven  thousand  five  hundred  dollars.  Here  is  the  bill  of  sale, 
only  the  purchaser's  name  is  wanting.  I  have  obeyed  your 
majesty's  commands,  and  acted  as  if  I  were  the  purchaser." 

"  Schmettau  is  not  such  a  stupid  fellow  as  to  believe  that, 
for  he  knows  that  you  cannot  keep  your  money.  You  say  the 
contract  is  ready,  only  the  signature  of  the  purchaser  is  want- 
ing and  the  money?" 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,  the  name  of  the  present  pos- 
eessor  has  not  been  inserted.  I  did  not  presume  to  write  it 
without  the  unmistakable  command  of  your  majesty." 

"Do  you  know  the  name?"  asked  the  king. 

"  I  do  not,  but  the  generosity  of  my  most  gracious  king 
and  master  allows  me  to  divine  it,  and  my  heart  is  filled  to 
bursting  with  thankfulness  and  joy.  My  whole  life  will  not 
be  long  enough  to  prove  to  you  my  gratitude." 

"What  for?"  asked  the  king,  staring  at  Von  Schwerin, 
quite  surprised;  "you  cannot  suppose  that  I  have  purchased 
the  villa  for  you?" 

Herr  von  Schwerin  smilingly  nodded.  "  I  think  so,  your 
majesty." 

Frederick  laughed  aloud.  "  Schwerin,  you  are  an  un- 
commonly cunning  fellow.  You  see  the  grass  grow  before  the 
seed  is  sown.  This  time  you  deceived  yourself — the  grass  has 
not  grown.  What  good  would  it  do  you?  You  do  not  need 
grass,  but  thistles,  and  they  do  not  grow  at  Charlottenburg. 
Take  the  contract  to  my  minister  Von  Herzberg,  whom  you 
will  find  in  the  audience-room,  and  then  walk  a  little  upon 
the  terrace  to  enjoy  the  fresh  air.  I  promised  you  the  privi- 
lege. First  go  to  Von  Herzberg,  and  say  to  him  to  send  the 
Prince  of  Prussia  to  me  immediately  upon  his  arrival.  Why 
do  you  wear  so  mournful  a  face  all  of  a  sudden?  Can  it  be 
possible  that  my  chief  equerry  has  so  lowered  himself  as  to  go 
among  the  mechanics,  and  build  chateaux  en  Espagne  ?  You 
know  such  houses  are  not  suitable  for  our  northern  climate, 
and  fall  down.  Now,  do  what  I  told  you,  and  then  go  upon 
the  terrace," 


82  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

The  equerry  glided  away  with  sorrowful  mien  to  Von  Herz- 
berg,  and  communicated  the  king's  commands  to  him. 

"You  have  made  a  good  purchase,"  said  the  minister,  in  a 
friendly  manner.  "  His  majesty  will  be  very  much  pleased 
with  the  extraordinary  zeal  and  the  great  dexterity  with 
which  you  have  arranged  the  matter.  Count  Schmettau  has 
just  been  here,  and  he  could  not  sufficiently  commend  your 
zeal  and  prudence,  and  the  sympathy  and  interest  which  you 
showed  in  the  smallest  matters,  as  if  the  purchase  were  for 
yourself.  The  count  wishes  to  reserve  two  oil  paintings  in 
the  saloon,  which  are  an  heirloom  from  his  father.  We  can- 
not but  let  the  count  retain  them." 

"Arrange  it  as  you  will,"  answered  the  equerry,  fretfully; 
"  I  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  the  affair — it  lies  in  your 
hands." 

"But  where  are  you  going  in  such  haste?"  said  Herzberg, 
as  the  equerry  bowed  hastily,  and  strode  through  the  room 
toward  the  door. 

"  His  majesty  commanded  me  to  go  upon  the  terrace,"  he 
replied,  morosely. 

Herr  von  Herzberg  looked  after  him  surprised.  "  Some- 
thing must  have  occurred,  otherwise  he  is  very  tractable. 
Ah!  there  comes  the  prince.  I  will  go  to  meet  him,  and 
communicate  to  him  the  king's  command — I  will  await  your 
royal  highness  here  until  you  have  spoken  with  the  king,  if 
you  will  have  the  grace  to  seek  me." 

"  I  will  return  by  all  means,  if  you  will  have  the  kindness 
to  wait  for  me,"  replied  the  prince,  smiling,  and  hastened  to 
the  interview  with  his  royal  uncle. 

Frederick  was  seated  in  his  arm-chair,  upon  his  lap  Alk- 
mene,  when  the  crown  prince  entered.  "  Bon  jour,  mon 
neveu!  pardon  me,"  said  he,  with  a  friendly  nod,  "  that  I  re- 
main seated,  and  do  not  rise  to  greet  the  future  King  of 
Prussia." 

"  Sire,  Heaven  grant  that  many  years  pass  before  I  succeed 
to  the  title  which  my  great  and  unapproachable  predecessor 


THE  MIRACULOUS  ELIXIR.  83 

has  borne  with  so  much  wisdom  and  fame,  that  one  can  well 
doubt  the  being  able  to  emulate  his  example,  and  must  con- 
tent himself  to  live  under  the  shadow  of  his  intelligence  and 
fame!" 

Frederick  slowly  shook  his  head.  "  The  people  will  not  be 
satisfied,  nor  the  coffers  filled  by  fame.  No  one  can  live  upon 
the  great  deeds  of  his  ancestors;  he  must  be  self-sustaining, 
not  seek  for  the  laurels  in  the  past,  but  upon  the  naked  field 
of  the  future,  which  lies  before  him.  Sow  the  seeds  of  future 
laurels;  fame  troubles  me  but  little,  and  I  advise  you,  my 
nephew,  not  to  rely  upon  it.  One  must  begin  anew  each  day, 
and  make  fresh  efforts  for  vigorous  deeds." 

The  crown  prince  bowed,  and  seated  himself  upon  the 
tabouret,  which  the  king,  with  a  slight  wave  of  the  hand, 
signified  to  him. 

"  I  will  endeavor,  sire,  to  follow  the  elevated  sentiments  of 
your  majesty,  that  I  may  not  dishonor  my  great  teacher." 

"You  express  yourself  too  modestly,  my  nephew,  and  1 
know  that  you  think  otherwise ;  that  your  fiery  spirit  will 
never  be  contented  to  dishonor  yourself  or  your  ancestors. 
Fate  is  favorable  to  you,  and  offers  the  opportunity  to  con- 
firm, what  I  judge  you  to  be — a  brave  soldier,  a  skilful  cap- 
tain— in  a  word,  a  true  Hohenzollern !  I  would  make  you 
a  commander  of  a  division  of  my  army,  and  I  shall  follow 
every  movement — every  operation,  with  lively  interest." 

A  ray  of  joy  beamed  upon  the  face  of  the  prince ;  Freder- 
ick saw  it  with  satisfaction,  and  his  heart  warmed  toward  liis 
nephew.  "  He  has  at  least  courage,"  he  said  to  himself;  "  he 
is  no  sybarite  to  quail  before  the  rough  life  of  war." 

"  Will  your  majesty  so  greatly  favor  me  as  to  accord  me  an 
independent  position  in  the  campaign?" 

"  I  offer  you  what  belongs  to  you  as  a  general  and  heir  to 
the  throne.  On  me  it  devolves  to  direct  the  plans  and  oper- 
ations, and  on  you  to  detail  them  and  direct  the  execution. 
I  shall  rejoice  to  see  that  you  understand  the  profession  of 
war  practically  as  well  as  theoretically.  Therefore,  this  war 


84  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

is  so  far  welcome,  that  it  will  give  my  crown  prince  an  oppor- 
tunity to  win  his  first  laurels,  and  adorn  the  brow  which, 
until  now,  has  been  crowned  with  myrtle. " 

"  Your  majesty,  I — " 

"  Be  silent — I  do  not  reproach  you,  my  nephew ;  I  under- 
stand human  nature,  and  the  seductive  arts  of  women.  It  is 
time  that  you  seek  other  ornament — myrtle  becomes  a  youth- 
ful brow,  and  the  helmet  adorns  the  man  crowned  with 
laurels." 

"  I  have  long  desired  it,  and  I  am  deeply  grateful  to  your 
majesty  for  the  opportunity  to  win  it.  This  campaign  is 
good  fortune  to  me." 

"  War  is  never  a  good  fortune,"  sighed  the  king — "  for  the 
people  it  is  great  misfortune.  I  would  willingly  have  avoided 
it  for  their  sake.  But  the  arrogance  and  the  passion  for 
territorial  aggrandizement  of  the  young  Emperor  of  Germany 
forces  me  to  it.  I  dare  not,  and  will  not  suffer  Austria  to  en- 
rich herself  through  foreign  inheritance,  ignoring  the  legiti- 
mate title  of  a  German  prince.  Bavaria  must  remain  an 
independent,  free  German  principality,  under  a  sovereign 
prince^  It  is  inevitably  necessary  for  the  balance  of  power. 
I  cannot  yield,  therefore,  as  a  German  prince,  that  Austria 
increase  her  power  in  an  illegitimate  manner,  but  I  will  cast 
my  good  sword  in  the  scales,  that  the  balance  is  heavier  on 
the  side  upon  which  depends  the  existence  of  Germany,  that 
she  may  not  be  tossed  in  the  air  by  Austria's  weight.  These 
are  my  views  and  reasons  for  the  war  upon  which  I  now  enter 
with  reluctance.  When  the  greatness  and  equilibrium  of 
Germany  are  at  stake,  no  German  prince  should  dare  hesitate. 
Austria  has  already  cost  Germany  much  blood,  and  will  cause 
her  to  shed  still  more.  Believe  it,  my  nephew,  and  guard 
yourself  against  Austria's  ambition  for  territorial  aggrandize- 
ment. You  see,  I  am  like  all  old  people,  always  teaching 
youth,  while  we  have  much  to  learn  ourselves.  We  are  all 
pupils,  and  our  deeds  are  ever  imperfect." 

"  Your  majesty  cannot  believe  that  of  himself.     The  sage 


THE  MIRACULOUS  ELIXIR.  85 

of  Sans-Souci  is  the  type,  the  master,  and  teacher  of  all 
Europe." 

"My  son,"  replied  the  king,  "the  great  men  of  antiquity 
recognized  it  as  the  acme  of  wisdom,  that  they  must  be  mind- 
ful that  'in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death.'  At  the  gay 
festivities  and  the  luxurious  feasts  they  were  interrupted  in 
the  merry  song  and  voluptuous  dance,  with  the  warning: 
'Remember,  0  man,  that  thou  must  die!'  Let  us  profit  by 
their  wisdom !  I  have  startled  you  from  the  banquet  of  life, 
and  I  doubt  not  that  many  singers  and  dancers  will  be  en- 
raged that  I  should  put  an  end  to  the  feasts  of  roses  and  the 
merry  dance  in  such  an  abominable  manner.  It  would  be  an 
evil  omen  in  our  warlike  undertaking,  if  the  rosy  lips  of  the 
beauties  should  breathe  curses  to  follow  us;  therefore,  we 
must  try  to  conciliate  them,  and  leave  a  good  souvenir  in 
their  hearts.  You  smile,  my  prince,  and  you  think  it  vain 
trouble  for  an  old  fellow ;  that  I  cannot  win  the  favor  of  the 
ladies  under  any  pretension ;  so  you  must  undertake  for  me 
the  reconciliation  and  the  hush-money." 

"  I  am  prepared  for  any  thing  which  your  majesty  imposes 
upon  me ;  only  I  would  defend  myself  against  the  interpre- 
tation which  you  give  my  smile — and — " 

"  Which  was  very  near  the  truth,"  interrupted  the  king. 
"  I  have  called  you  from  the  banquet  of  life,  and  I  have  inter- 
rupted the  dancers,  crowned  with  roses  in  the  midst  of  their 
dance,  which  they  would  finish  before  you.  I  pray  you,  then, 
indemnify  the  enraged  beauties,  and  let  us  go  forth  with  a 
quiet  conscience,  that  we  in  no  respect  are  indebted  to  any 
one." 

"  Oh,  sire,  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  to  go  to  the  field 
with  a  quiet  conscience  upon  this  point." 

"  Permit  me  to  extend  to  you  the  means  to  do  so,"  replied 
the  king,  graciously  smiling.  "  Take  this  little  box ;  it  con- 
tains a  wonderful  elixir,  proof  against  all  the  infirmities  and 
weaknesses  of  humanity,  of  one  of  the  greatest  philosophers 
of  human  nature.  By  the  right  use  of  it,  tears  of  sorrow  are 


86  OLD  FRITZ   AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

changed  to  tears  of  joy,  and  a  Megerea  into  a  smiling  angel, 
as  by  enchantment.  Before  going  to  the  war,  I  pray  you  to 
prove  the  miraculous  elixir  upon  one  of  the  angry  beauties. 
For,  I  repeat,  we  must  put  our  house  in  order,  and  leave  no 
debts  behind  us.  The  debts  of  gratitude  must  not  be  forgot- 
ten. Let  us  say  'Gesegnete  Mahlzeit'  when  we  have  been  well 
feasted." 

The  king  handed  the  prince  a  little  box,  of  beautiful 
workmanship,  and  smiled  as  he  rather  vehemently  thanked 
him,  and  at  the  same  time  tried  to  open  it. 

"  I  remark  with  pleasure  that  you  have  a  tolerably  innocent 
heart,  as  you  betray  curiosity  about  the  wonderful  elixir.  I 
supposed  men,  to  say  nothing  of  beautiful  women,  had  long 
since  instructed  you  that  it  was  the  only  balsam  for  all  the 
evils  of  life.  My  minister  Herzberg  will  give  you  the  key  of 
the  little  box,  and  advise  you  as  to  the  right  use  of  the  elixir. 
Farewell,  with  the  .hope  of  soon  seeing  you  again,  my  nephew. 
I  start  for  Silesia  to-morrow,  as  I  must  travel  slower  than  you 
young  people.  You  will  follow  me  in  a  few  days.  Again 
farewell!" 

Extending  his  meagre  white  hand  to  the  prince,  he  with 
drew  it  quickly,  as  the  latter  was  about  to  press  it  to  his  lips. 
and  motioned  to  the  door  kindly. 


CHAPTEK    VIII. 

THE  GOLDEN   RAIN. 

PRINCE  FREDERICK  WILLIAM  betook  himself,  with  painful 
curiosity,  to  the  audience-room,  where  the  Minister  von  Herz- 
berg awaited  him. 

"  Your  excellency,"  said  he,  "  his  majesty  refers  me  to  you, 
for  the  true  explanation  of  the  miraculous  elixir  contained  in 
this  little  box,  and  about  which  I  am  naturally  very  curiouss 
and  beg  of  you  the  key  to  open  it." 


THE  GOLDEN  RAIN.  87 

"Will  your  royal  highness,"  said  the  minister,  smiling, 
"  have  the  grace  to  grant  me  a  few  moments'  conversation, 
which  may  serve  as  an  explanation,  for  his  majesty  has  not  in 
reality  given  me  a  key?" 

"I  pray  you,  my  dear  excellency,  to  explain  it,"  cried  the 
prince,  impatiently. 

"  Pardon  me  if  I  probe  the  tenderest  feelings  of  your  heart, 
my  prince.  The  command  of  the  king  imposes  this  duty 
upon  me.  He  has  known  for  a  long  time  of  your  connection 
with  a  certain  person,  to  whom  you  are  more  devoted  than  to 
your  wife." 

"  Say,  rather,  his  majesty  has  twice  forced  me  to  marry  two 
unloved  and  unknown  princesses,  when  he  knew  that  I  already 
loved  this  certain  person.  Twice  I  have  married,  because  the 
command  of  his  king  is  law  to  the  crown  prince  of  Prussia. 
For  my  love  and  my  sympathy  there  is  no  law  but  that  of  my 
own  heart,  and  this  alone  have  I  followed." 

"  His  majesty  does  not  reproach  you.  The  philosopher  of 
Sans-Souci  understands  human  nature,  and  he  feels  indulgent 
toward  your  weakness.  He  is  quite  satisfied  that  you  have 
chosen  this  person,  as  friend  and  favorite,  to  console  yourself 
for  an  unhappy  marriage.  Her  low  birth  is  a  guaranty  that 
she  will  never  mingle  in  politics,  an  act  which  would  be 
visited  with  his  majesty's  highest  displeasure.  While  his 
majesty  permits  you  to  continue  this  intimacy,  and  recognizes 
the  existence  of  this  woman,  he  wishes  her  to  be  provided  for 
as  becomes  the  mistress  of  a  crown  prince,  and  not  as  the  gri- 
sette  of  a  gentleman.  She  should  have  her  own  house,  and 
the  livery  of  her  lord." 

"  As  if  it  were  my  fault  that  this  has  not  already  been  ar- 
ranged!" cried  the  prince.  "Am  I  not  daily  and  hourly 
tormented  with  poverty,  and  scarcely  know  how  to  turn,  be- 
tween necessary  expenses  and  urgent  creditors?  You  know 
well  yourself,  your  excellency,  how  stingy  and  parsimonious 
the  king  is  to  the  crown  prince.  He  scarcely  affords  me  the 
means  to  support  my  family  in  a  decent,  to  say  nothing  of  a 


88  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

princely,  manner.  How  dependent  we  all  are,  myself,  my 
wife,  and  my  children  upon  the  king,  whose  economy  in- 
creases, while  our  wants  and  expenses  also  increase  every  year! 
It  is  sufficiently  sad  that  I  cannot  reward  those  who  have 
proved  to  me  during  ten  years  their  fidelity  and  love,  but  I 
must  suffer  them  to  live  in  dependence  and  want." 

"His  majesty  understands  that,  and  thinks  that  as  your 
royal  highness  is  to  go  to  the  field,  and  will  be  exposed,  as  a 
brave  commander,  to  the  uncertain  fate  of  battle,  that  you 
should  assure  the  future  of  all  those  who  are  dear  to  you,  and 
arrange  a  certain  competency  for  them.  A  good  opportunity 
now  offers  to  you.  Count  Schmettau  will  sell  his  villa  at 
Charlottenbnrg,  and  it  would  be  agreeable  to  his  majesty  that 
you  should  purchase  it,  and  assign  it  to  those  dearest  to  you. 
In  order  to  give  you  as  little  trouble  as  possible,  his  majesty 
has  had  the  matter  already  arranged,  through  his  equerry, 
Count  Schmettau,  and  the  purchase  can  be  made  this  very 
hour.  Here  is  the  bill  of  sale ;  only  the  name  of  the  present 
possessor  is  wanting,  the  signature  of  the  purchaser,  and  the 
payment  of  seven  thousand  five  hundred  thalers." 

"  The  names  can  be  quickly  written;  but,  your  excellency," 
cried  the  prince,  "  where  will  the  money  come  from?" 

"  I  have  just  given  your  royal  highness  the  key  to  the  little 
box:  have  the  goodness  to  press  hard  upon  the  rosette." 

The  prince  touched  the  spring,  the  cover  flew  back — it  con- 
tained only  a  strip  of  paper!  Upon  it  was  written,  in  the 
king's  own  handwriting,  "  Bill  of  exchange  upon  my  treas- 
urer. Pay  to  the  order  of  the  Prince  of  Prussia  twenty  thou- 
sand thalers. "  *  The  prince's  face  lighted  up  with  joy.  "  Oh ! 
the  king  has  indeed  given  me  a  miraculous  elixir,  that  com- 
pensates for  all  misfortunes,  heals  all  infirmities,  and  is  a 
balsam  for  all  possible  griefs.  I  will  bring  it  into  use  im- 
mediately, and  sign  the  bill  of  sale."  He  signed  the  paper, 
and  filled  with  haste  the  deficiency  in  the  contract.  "  It  is 
done!"  he  cried,  joyfully,  "the  proprietress,  Wilhelmine 

*  "  Memoirs  of  the  Countess  Lichtenau,"  vol.  i. 


THE  GOLDEN  RAIN.  89 

Enke;  purchaser,  Frederick  William  of  Prussia.  Nothing 
remains  to  be  done  but  to  draw  upon  the  king's  treasury,  and 
pay  Count  Schmettau." 

"  Your  royal  highness  is  spared  even  that  trouble.  Here 
are  twenty  rolls,  ani  each  roll  contains  one  hundred  double 
Fredericks  d'or,  and,  when  your  highness  commands  it,  I  will 
reserve  seven  rolls  and  pay  Count  Schmettau ;  then  there  re- 
main thirteen  for  yourself.  Here  is  the  contract,  which  you 
will  give  in  person  to  the  possessor." 

"  First,  I  must  go  to  the  king,"  said  the  prince;  "  my  heart 
urges  me  to  express  my  gratitude  to  him,  and  my  deep  sense 
of  his  goodness  and  tenderness.  I  feel  ashamed  without  being 
humbled,  like  a  repentant  son,  who  has  doubted  the  generosity 
and  goodness  of  his  father,  because  he  has  sometimes  severely 
reprimanded  his  faults.  I  must  go  at  once  to  the  king." 

"He  will  not  receive  your  royal  highness,"  answered  Herz- 
berg,  smiling.  "  You  know  our  sovereign,  who  so  fully  de- 
serves our  admiration  and  love.  His  favor  and  goodness  beam 
upon  us  all,  and  he  desires  neither  thanks  nor  acknowledg- 
ment. He  performs  his  noble,  glorious  deeds  in  a  harsh 
manner,  that  he  may  relieve  the  recipients  of  his  bounty  from 
the  burden  of  gratitude;  and  often  when  he  is  the  most 
morose  and  harsh,  is  he  at  heart  the  most  gracious  and  affec- 
tionate. You  and  yours  have  experienced  it  to-day.  He 
appeared  to  be  angry,  and  enveloped  himself  in  the  toga  of  a 
severe  judge  of  morals;  but,  under  this  toga,  there  beat  the 
kind,  noble  heart  of  a  friend  and  father,  who  punishes  with 
rigorous  words,  and  forgives  with  generous,  benevolent  deeds." 

"  For  this  I  must  thank  him — he  must  listen  to  me!"  cried 
the  prince. 

''  He  will  be  angry  if  your  royal  highness  forces  him  to  re- 
ceive thanks  when  he  would  avoid  them.  He  has  expressly 
commanded  me  to  entreat  you  never  to  allude  to  the  affair, 
and  never  to  speak  of  it  to  others,  as  it  would  not  be  agreeable 
to  his  majesty  to  have  the  family  affairs  known  to  the  world. 
iTou  would  best  please  his  majesty  by  following  exactly  hia 
7 


90  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

wishes,  and  when  you  meet  him  never  allude  to  it.  As  I  have 
said,  this  is  the  express  wish  and  command  of  the  king." 

"Which  I  must  naturally  follow,"  sighed  the  prince,  "al- 
though I  acknowledge  that  it  is  unpleasant  to  me  to  receive 
so  much  kindness  from  him  without  at  least  returning  my 
most  heart-felt  thanks.  Say  to  the  king,  that  I  am  deeply, 
sensibly  moved  with  his  tender  sympathy  and  generosity. 
And  now  I  will  hasten  to  Wilhelmine  Enke ;  but,  it  occurs  to 
me  that  it  may  not  be  possible ;  the  king  has  made  her  a 
prisoner  in  her  own  house." 

"  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about  that.  If  it  is  your  royal 
highness's  pleasure,  drive  at  once  to  Charlottenburg.  You 
will  find  the  new  possessor  there,  and  she  will  relate  to  you 
her  interview  with  the  mayor  of  Berlin." 

"  Oh !  I  shall  drive  at  once  to  the  villa.  I  am  curious  to 
learn  what  Von  Kircheisen  has  told  her." 

"  I  imagined  that  you  would  be,  and  ordered  your  carriage 
here,  as  you  could  not  well  ride  upon  horseback  with  the 
heavy  rolls  of  gold;  and  if  it  is  your  pleasure,  I  will  order  the 
footman  to  place  the  box,  into  which  I  have  put  them,  in  the 
carriage." 

"  No,  no;  I  beg  you  to  let  me  carry  them,"  cried  the  prince, 
seizing  the  box  with  both  hands.  "  It  is  truly  heavy,  but  an 
agreeable  burden,  and  if  it  lames  my  arm  I  shall  bethink  my- 
self of  the  miraculous  elixir,  which  will  give  me  courage  and 
strength.  Farewell,  your  excellency;  I  shall  hurry  on  to 
Charlottenburg !" 

The  prince  hastened  to  his  carriage,  and  ordered  the  coach- 
man to  drive  at  full  speed  to  the  villa.  Thanks  to  this  order, 
he  reached  it  in  about  an  hour.  No  one  was  there  to  receive 
him  upon  his  arrival.  The  hall  was  empty,  and  the  rooms 
were  closed.  The  prince  passed  on  to  the  opposite  end,  where 
there  was  a  door  open,  and  stood  upon  a  balcony,  with  steps 
descending  into  the  garden,  which,  with  its  flower-beds,  grass- 
plots,  shrubbery,  and  the  tall  trees,  formed  a  lovely  back- 
ground. The  birds  were  singing,  the  trees  rustled,  and  var- 


THE  GOLDEN  RAIN.  91 

legated  butterflies  fluttered  over  the  odorous  flowers.  Upon 
the  turf,  forming  a  beautiful  group,  was  Wilhelmine  playing 
with  her  daughter,  and  the  nurse  with  the  little  boy  upon  her 
lap,  who  laughingly  stretched  out  his  arms  toward  his  mother. 

"Wilhelmine — Wilhelmine!"  cried  the  prince. 

With  a  cry  of  joy  she  answered,  and  flew  toward  the  house. 
"You  have  come  at  last,  my  beloved  lord,"  she  cried,  almost 
breathless,  mounting  the  steps.  "  I  beg  you  to  tell  me  what 
all  this  means?  I  am  dying  of  curiosity!" 

"  I  also,"  said  the  prince,  smiling.  "  Have  the  goodness  to 
lead  me  to  one  of  the  rooms,  that  I  may  set  down  this  box." 

"  What  does  that  hobgoblin  contain,  that  it  prevents  your 
embracing  me?" 

"  Do  not  ask,  but  hasten  to  assist  me  to  relieve  myself  of 
the  burden."  They  entered  the  house,  and  Wilhelmine 
opened  the  wide  folding-doors,  which  led  into  a  very  tastefully- 
furnished  room.  Frederick  William  set  the  box  upon  the 
marble  table,  and  sank  upon  a  divan  with  Wilhelmine  in  his 
arms.  "  First  of  all,  tell  me  what  Von  Kirch eisen  said  to 
you?" 

"  He  commanded  me,  in  the  name  of  the  king,  to  give  up 
my  dwelling  at  Berlin  and  at  Potsdam,  and  to  avoid  showing 
myself  in  public  at  both  places,  that  those  who  had  the  right 
to  the  love  and  fidelity  of  the  Prince  of  Prussia  should  not  be 
annoyed  at  the  sight  of  me ;  that  I  should  live  retired,  and 
leave  the  appointed  residence  as  little  as  possible,  for  then  the 
king  would  be  inclined  to  ignore  my  existence,  and  take  no 
further  notice  of  me.  But,  if  I  attempted  to  play  a  role,  his 
majesty  would  take  good  care  that  it  should  be  forever  played 
out." 

"  Those  were  harsh,  cruel  words,"  sighed  Frederick  William. 

"Harsh,  cruel  words,"  repeated  Wilhelmine,  sorrowfully. 
"  They  pierced  my  soul,  and  I  shrieked  at  last  from  agony. 
Herr  von  Kircheisen  was  quite  frightened,  and  begged  me  to 
excuse  him,  that  he  must  thus  speak  to  me,  but  the  king  had 
commanded  him  to  repeat  his  very  words.  The  carriage  was 


92  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

at  the  door,  he  said,  ready  to  convey  me  to  my  future  dwell- 
ing, for  I  must  immediately  leave  Berlin,  and  the  king  be  in- 
formed of  my  setting  out.  The  coachman  received  the  order, 
and  here  I  am,  without  knowing  what  I  am  to  do,  or  whether 
-  shall  remain  here." 

"  Yes,  Wilhelmine,  you  are  to  remain  here;  at  last  we  have 
i  home,  and  a  resting-place  for  our  love  and  our  children. 
This  house  is  yours — you  are  mistress  here,  and  you  must  wel- 
come me  as  your  guest." 

"  This  house  is  mine !"  she  cried,  joyfully.  "  Did  you  give 
it  to  me?  How  generous,  and  how  extravagant  you  are! 
Protect  me  with  the  gift  of  your  love,  as  if  you  were  Jupiter 
and  I  Danae!" 

"  A  beautiful  picture,  and,  that  it  may  be  a  reality,  I  will 
play  the  role  of  Jupiter  and  open  the  box." 

He  took  a  roll  of  gold,  and  let  it  fall  upon  Wilhelmine 's 
head,  her  beautiful  shoulders,  and  her  arms,  like  a  shower  of 
gold.  She  shrieked  and  laughed,  and  sought  to  gather  up 
the  pieces  which  rolled  ringing  around  her  upon  the  floor. 
The  prince  seized  another  roll,  and  another  still,  till  she  was 
flooded  with  the  glistening  pieces.  Then  another  and  an- 
other, until  Wilhelmine,  laughing,  screamed  for  grace,  and 
sprang  up,  the  gold  rolling  around  her  like  teasing  goblins. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

GERMAN   LITERATUEE   AND  THE   KING. 

THE  Minister  Herzberg  had,  in  the  mean  time,  an  interview 
with  the  king,  informing  him  of  the  concluded  purchase  of 
the  Schmettau  villa,  and  of  the  emotion  and  gratitude  of  the 
crown  prince  at  his  royal  munificence. 

"That  affair  is  arranged,  then,"  said  Frederick.  "If  Fate 
wills  that  the  prince  should  not  return  from  this  campaign, 
then  this  certain  person  and  the  two  poor  worms  are  provided 


JUPITER  AND  DANAfi. 


GERMAN  LITERATURE  AND  THE  KING.  93 

for,  who  are  destined  to  wander  through  the  world  nameless 
and  fatherless." 

"  Let  us  hope  that  fate  will  not  deal  so  harshly  with  the 
prince,  or  bring  such  sorrow  upon  your  majesty." 

"  My  dear  sir,  Fate  is  a  hard-hearted  creature,  the  tears  of 
mankind  are  of  no  more  importance  to  her  than  the  raindrops 
falling  from  the  roof.  She  strides  with  gigantic  power  over 
men,  crushing  them  all  in  the  dust — the  great  as  well  as  the 
little — the  king  as  well  as  the  beggar.  For  my  part  I  yield 
to  Fate  without  a  murmur.  Politicians  and  warriors  are  mere 
puppets  in  the  hands  of  Providence.  We  act  without  know- 
ing why,  for  we  are  unknowingly  the  tools  of  an  invisible 
hand.  Often  the  result  of  our  actions  is  the  reverse  of  our 
hopes!  Let  all  things  take  their  course,  as  it  best  pleases 
God,  and  let  us  not  think  to  master  Fate.*  That  is  my 
creed,  Herzberg,  and  if  I  do  not  return  from  this  infamous 
campaign,  you  will  know  that  I  have  yielded  to  Fate  without 
murmuring.  You  understand  my  wishes  in  all  things;  the 
current  affairs  of  government  should  go  on  regularly.  If  any 
thing  extraordinary  occurs,  let  me  be  informed  at  once.  Is 
there  any  news,  Herzberg?" 

"Nothing  worth  recounting,  sire,  except  that  the  young 
Duke  of  Weimar  is  in  town." 

"  I  know  it ;  he  has  announced  himself.  I  cannot  speak 
with  him.  I  have  asked  my  brother  Henry  to  arrange  the 
conditions  under  which  he  will  allow  us  to  enlist  men  for  my 
army  in  his  duchy.  I  hope  he  will  be  reasonable,  and  not 
prevent  it.  That  is  no  news  that  the  Duke  of  Weimar  has 
arrived!" 

"  Not  only  the  duke  has  arrived,  but  he  has  brought  his 
dear  friend  with  him  whom  the  people  in  Saxe- Weimar  say 
makes  the  good  and  bad  weather." 

"  Who  is  the  weather-maker?" 

"Your  majesty,  this  weather-maker  is  the  author  of  'The 
Sorrows  of  Young  Werther,'  Johann  Wolfgang  Goethe,  who 

*  The  king's  words.— "Posthumous  Works,"  vol.  x.,  p.  256. 


94  OLD  FEITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

for  four  years  has  aroused  the  hearts  and  excited  the  im- 
aginations of  all  Germany.  If  I  am  not  deceived,  a  great 
future  opens  for  this  poet,  and  he  will  be  a  star  of  the  first 
magnitude  in  the  sky  of  German  literature.  I  believe  it 
would  be  well  worth  the  trouble  for  your  majesty  to  see  him." 

"Do  not  trouble  me  with  your  German  literature,  and  your 
stars  of  the  first  magnitude !  We  must  acknowledge  our  pov- 
erty with  humility ;  belles-lettres  have  never  achieved  success 
upon  our  soil.  Moreover,  this  star  of  the  first  magnitude — 
this  Herr  Goethe — I  remember  him  well;  I  wish  to  know 
nothing  of  him.  He  has  quite  turned  the  heads  of  all  the 
love-sick  fools  with  his  'Sorrows  of  Young  Werther. '  You 
cannot  count  that  a  merit.  The  youth  of  Germany  were 
sufficiently  enamoured,  without  the  love-whining  romances  of 
Herr  Goethe  to  pour  oil  on  the  fire." 

"  Pardon  me,  sire,  that  I  should  presume  to  differ  from  you ; 
but  this  book  which  your  majesty  condemns  has  not  only  pro- 
duced &  furor  in  Germany,  but  throughout  Europe — through- 
out the  world  even.  That  which  public  opinion  sustains  in 
such  a  marked  manner  cannot  be  wholly  unworthy.  'Vox 
populi,  vox  dei,'  is  a  true  maxim  in  all  ages." 

"  It  is  not  true!"  cried  the  king.  " The  old  Roman  maxim 
is  not  applicable  to  our  effeminate,  degraded  people.  Now- 
adays, whoever  flatters  the  people  and  glorifies  their  weak- 
nesses, is  a  good  fellow,  and  he  is  extolled  to  the  skies. 
Public  opinion  calls  him  a  genius  and  a  Messiah.  Away  with 
your  nonsense!  The  'Werther'  of  Herr  Goethe  has  wrought 
no  good ;  it  has  made  the  healthy  sick,  and  has  not  restored 
invalids  to  health.  Since  its  appearance  a  mad  love-fever  has 
seized  all  the  young  people,  and  silly  sentimentalities  and 
flirtations  have  become  the  fashion.  These  modern  Werthers 
behave  as  if  love  were  a  tarantula,  with  the  bite  of  which  they 
must  become  mad,  to  be  considered  model  young  men.  They 
groan  and  sigh,  take  moonlight  walks,  but  they  have  no  cour- 
age in  their  souls,  and  will  never  make  good  soldiers.  This 
is  the  fault  of  Herr  Werther,  and  his  abominable  lamentations. 


GERMAIN   LITERATURE  AND  THE  KING.  95 

It  is  a  miserable  work,  and  not  worth  the  trouble  of  talking 
about,  for  no  earnest  man  will  read  it!" 

"Pardon  me,  sire;  your  majesty  has  graciously  permitted 
me  to  enter  the  lists  as  knight  and  champion  of  German  liter- 
ature, and  sometimes  to  defend  the  German  Muse,  who  stands 
unnoticed  and  unknown  under  the  shadow  of  your  throne; 
while  the  French  lady,  with  her  brilliant  attire  and  painted 
cheeks,  is  always  welcomed.  I  beg  your  majesty  to  believe 
that,  although  this  romance  may  have  done  some  harm,  it 
has,  on  the  other  hand,  done  infinite  service.  A  great  and 
immortal  merit  cannot  be  denied  to  it. " 

"What  merit?"  demanded  the  king,  slowly  taking  a  pinch 
of  snufE ;  "lam  very  curious  to  know  what  merit  that  crazy, 
love-sick  book  has." 

"  Sire,  it  has  the  great  merit  to  have  enriched  the  German 
literature  with  a  work  whose  masterly  language  alone  raises  it 
above  every  thing  heretofore  produced  by  a  German  author. 
It  has  emancipated  our  country's  literature  from  its  clumsy, 
awkward  childhood,  and  presented  it  as  an  ardent,  inspired 
youth,  ready  for  combat,  upon  the  lips  of  whom  the  gods  have 
placed  the  right  word  to  express  every  feeling  and  every 
thought — a  youth  who  is  capable  of  probing  the  depths  of  the 
human  heart." 

"  I  wish  all  this  might  have  remained  in  the  depths,"  cried 
Frederick,  annoyed.  "  You  have  defended  the  German  Muse 
before;  but  you  remember  that  I  am  incorrigible.  You  can- 
not persuade  me  that  bungling  is  master-work.  It  is  not  the 
poverty  of  the  mind,  but  the  fault  of  the  language,  which  is 
not  capable  of  expressing  with  brevity  and  precision.  For 
example,  how  could  any  one  translate  Tacitus  into  German 
without  adding  a  mass  of  words  and  phrases?  In  French  it 
is  not  necessary;  one  can  express  himself  with  brevity,  and  to 
the  point." 

"  Sire,  I  shall  permit  myself  to  prove  to  you  that  the  brevity 
of  Tacitus  can  be  imitated  in  the  German  language.  I  will 
translate  a  part  of  Tacitus,  to  give  your  majesty  a  proof," 


96  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  I  will  take  you  at  your  word !  And  I  will  answer  you  in 
a  treatise  upon  German  literature,  its  short- comings,  and  the 
means  for  its  improvement.*  Until  then,  a  truce.  I  insist 
upon  it — good  German  authors  are  entirely  wanting  to  us 
Germans.  They  may  appear  a  long  time  after  I  have  joined 
Voltaire  and  Algarotti  in  the  Elysian  Fields."  f 

"They  are  already  here,"  cried  Herzberg,  zealously.  "Wa 
have,  for  example,  Lessing,  who  has  written  two  dramas,  of 
which  every  nation  might  be  proud — 'Minna  von  Barnhelm, 
and  Emilia  Calotti. ' ' 

"  I  know  nothing  of  them,"  said  the  king,  with  indifference. 
"I  have  never  heard  of  your  Lessing." 

"Your  majesty,  this  wonderful  comedy,  'Minna  von  Barc.- 
helm,'  was  written  for  your  majesty's  glorification." 

"The  more  the  reason  why  I  should  not  read  it!  A.Ger- 
man comedy !  That  must  be  fine  stuff  for  the  German  thea- 
tre, the  most  miserable  of  all.  In  Germany,  Melpomene  has 
untutored  admirers,  some  walking  on  stilts,  others  crawling 
in  the  mire,  from  the  altars  of  the  goddess.  The  Germans 
will  ever  be  repulsed,  as  they  are  rebels  to  her  laws,  and 
understand  not  the  art  to  move  and  interest  the  heart." 

"  But,  sire,  you  have  never  deigned  to  become  acquainted 
with  'Minna  von  Barnhelm'  nor  'Emilia  Calotti.' ' 

"  Well,  well,  Herzberg,  do  not  be  so  furious ;  you  are  a  love:1 
of  German  literature,  and  some  allowance  must  be  made  for 
those  who  are  in  love.  You  will  not  persuade  me  to  read 
your  things  which  you  call  German  comedies  and  tragedies. 
I  will  take  good  care;  my  teeth  are  not  strong  enough  to 
grind  such  hard  bits.  Now  do  not  be  angry,  Herzberg.  The 
first  leisure  hours  that  I  have  in  this  campaign  I  shall  employ 
on  my  treatise." 

"And  the  first  leisure  hours  that  I  have,"  growled  the 
minister,  "  I  shall  employ  to  translate  a  portion  of  Tacitus 
into  our  beautiful  German  language,  to  send  to  your  majesty." 

*  This  treatise  appeared  during  the  Bavarian  war  of  succession,  in  the  winter  of 
1779. 

t  The  king's  words.— See  "Posthumous  Works,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  293. 


GERMAN  LITERATURE  AND  THE  KING.  97 

"You  are  incorrigible,"  said  Frederick,  smiling.  "We 
shall  see,  and  until  then  let  us  keep  the  peace,  Herzberg.  When 
one  is  about  to  go  to  war,  it  is  well  to  be  at  peace  with  one's 
conscience  and  with  his  friends;  so  let  us  be  good  friends." 

"  Your  majesty,  your  graciousness  and  kindness  make  me 
truly  ashamed,"  said  the  minister,  feelingly.  "  I  beg  pardon 
a  thousand  times,  if  I  have  allowed  myself  to  be  carried  away 
with  unbecoming  violence  in  my  zeal  for  our  poor  neglected 
German  literature." 

"  I  approve  of  your  zeal,  and  it  pleases  me  that  you  are  a 
faithful  knight,  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche.  I  do  not  ascribe 
its  poverty  to  the  German  nation,  who  have  as  much  spirit 
and  genius  as  any  nation,  the  mental  development  of  which 
has  been  retarded  by  outward  circumstances,  which  prevented 
her  rising  to  an  equality  with  her  neighbors.  We  shall  one 
day  have  classical  writers,  and  every  one  will  read  them  to 
cultivate  himself.  Our  neighbors  will  learn  German,  and  i6 
will  be  spoken  with  pleasure  at  courts ;  and  it  can  well  happen 
that  our  language,  when  perfectly  formed,  will  spread  through- 
out Europe.  We  shall  have  our  German  classics  also."  * 

The  king  smiled,  well  pleased,  as  he  observed  by  stolen 
glances  the  noble,  intelligent  face  of  Herzberg  brighten,  and 
the  gloomy  clouds  dispersed  which  had  overshadowed  it. 

"Now,  is  it  not  true  that  you  are  again  contented?"  said 
the  king,  graciously. 

"  I  am  delighted  with  the  prophecy  for  the  German  lan- 
guage, your  majesty;  and  may  I  add  something?" 

"  It  will  weigh  on  your  heart  if  you  do  not  tell  it,"  said  the 
king. 

"  I  prophesy  that  this  Goethe  will  one  day  belong  to  the 
classic  authors,  and  therefore  I  would  beg  once  more  of  your 
majesty  to  grant  him  a  gracious  look,  and  invite  him  to  your 
presence.  If  you  find  no  pleasure  in  'The  Sorrows  of 
Werther,'  Goethe  has  created  other  beautiful  works.  He  is 
the  author  of  the  tragedy  of  'Stella.'  " 

*  The  king's  words.— See  "  Posthumous  Works,"  vol.  iii. 


98  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  That  sentimental,  immoral  piece,  which,  we  forbid  the 
representation  of  in  Berlin,  because  it  portrays  a  fellow  who 
made  love  to  two  women  at  once,  playing  the  double  role  of 
lover  to  his  wife  and  his  paramour,  while  he  had  a  grown-up 
daughter !  It  is  an  immoral  piece,  which  excites  the  tear- 
glands,  and  ends  as  'Werther,'  by  the  hero  blowing  his  brains 
out.  It  is  directed  against  all  morals,  and  against  marriage; 
therefore  it  was  forbidden."  * 

"  But,  sire,  Herr  Goethe  has  not  only  written  '  Stella, '  but 
'Clavigo'  also,  which — " 

"Which  he  has  copied  exactly  from  the  'Me"  moires  de  Beau- 
marchais,'  "  interrupted  the  king.  "  That  is  not  a  German, 
but  a  French  production," 

"Allow  me  to  cite  a  genuine  German  production,  which 
Johann  Wolfgang  Goethe  has  written.  I  mean  the  drama 
'Gotz  von  Berlichingen. ' ' 

"  Stop ! — it  is  sufficient.  I  do  not  wish  to  hear  any  thing 
more,"  cried  the  king,  indignant,  and  rising.  "It  is  bad 
enough  that  such  pieces  should  appear  upon  the  German 
stage  as  this  'Gotz  von  Berlichingen.'  They  are  nothing  less 
than  abominable  imitations  of  the  bad  English,  pieces  of 
Shakespeare!  The  pit  applauds  them,  and  dejnands  with  en- 
thusiasm these  very  disgusting  platitudes.^  Do  not  be  angry 
again,  you  must  have  patience  with  the  old  boy !  I  shall  re- 
joice heartily  if  this  Herr  Goethe  becomes  a  classic  writer  one 
day,  as  you  say.  I  shall  not  live  to  witness  it.  I  only  see 
the  embryo  where  you  see  the  full-grown  author.  We  will 
talk  further  about  it  when  we  meet  in  the  Elysian  Fields: 
then  we  will  see,  when  you  present  this  Herr  Johann  Wolf- 
gang Goethe,  as  a  German  classic  writer,  to  Homer,  Horace, 
Virgil,  and  Corneille,  if  they  do  not  turn  their  backs  upon 
him.  Now  adieu,  Herzberg!  So  soon  as  circumstances  per- 

*  The  tragedy  of  "  Stella  "  was  represented  in  Berlin  with  great  applause,  and  de- 
nounced by  the  king  as  immoral,  in  the  year  1776,  and  the  further  representation  for- 
bidden.— See  Plumke,  "  History  of  the  Berlin  Theatres." 

t  The  king's  own  words. — See  "  Posthumous  Works,"  vol.iii. 


GERMAN  LITERATURE  AND  THE  KING.  99 

mit,  I  shall  send  for  you  to  go  to  Silesia,  and  then  you  can 
give  me  your  German  translation  of  Tacitus." 

The  king  nodded  in  a  friendly  manner  to  his  minister,  and 
slowly  walked  back  and  forth,  while  he  took  leave  and  with- 
drew. After  a  few  moments  he  rang,  and  the  summons  was 
immediately  answered  by  the  footman  Schultz. 

The  king  fixed  upon  him  one  of  those  searching  glances 
of  his  fiery  eyes  which  confounded  and  confused  the  foot- 
man. He  remained  standing  and  embarrassed,  with  downcast 
look. 

"What  are  you  standing  there  for?"  asked  the  king. 
"  Did  I  not  ring  for  you,  and  do  you  not  know  what  you  have 
to  do?"  Frederick  continued  to  regard  him,  with  flashing 
eyes,  which  increased  the  lackey's  confusion. 

He  forgot  entirely  that  the  summons  was  for  his  majesty's 
lunch,  and  all  that  he  had  to  do  was  to  open  the  door  to  the 
adjoining  room,  where  it  stood  already  prepared. 

Frederick  waited  a  moment,  but  the  footman  still  stood  ir- 
resolute, when  his  majesty  indicated  to  him  to  approach. 

He  approached,  staggering  under  the  puzzling  glance  of  his 
master. 

"Oh!  I  see  what  it  is,"  said  Frederick,  shrugging  his 
shoulders;  "you  are  drunk  again,  as  you  often  are,  and — " 

"Your  majesty,"  cried  Schultz,  amazed,  "I  drunk!" 

"  Silence! — will  you  be  bold  enough  to  reason  with  me?  I 
say  that  you  are  drunk,  and  I  want  no  drunken  footmen. 
They  must  be  well-behaved,  sober  fellows,  who  keep  their  ears 
open  and  their  mouths  shut — who  are  neither  drunkards  nor 
gossips,  and  do  not  take  for  truth  what  they  have  experienced 
in  their  drunken  fits.  I  do  not  want  such  fellows  as  you  are 
at  all;  you  are  only  fit  food  for  cannon,  and  for  that  you  shall 
serve.  Go  to  General  Alvenslebeu,  and  present  yourself  to 
enter  the  guards.  You  are  lucky  to  go  to  the  field  at  once ; 
to-morrow  you  will  set  off.  Say  to  the  general  that  I  sent  you, 
and  that  you  are  to  enter  as  a  common  soldier. " 


100  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"But,  your  majesty,  I  do  not  know  what  I  have  done,' 
cried  Sehultz,  whiningly.  "  I  really  am  not  drunk.  I — " 

"  Silence!"  thundered  the  king.  "  Do  as  I  command  you ! 
Go  to  General  Alvensleben,  and  present  yourself  to  enter  the 
guards  at  once.  Away  with  you !  I  do  not  need  drunken, 
gossiping  footmen  in  my  service.  Away  with  you !" 

The  footman  slunk  slowly  away,  his  head  hanging  down, 
with  difficulty  restraining  the  tears  which  stood  in  large  drops 
in  his  eyes. 

The  king  followed  him  with  his  glance,  which  softened  and 
grew  gentler  from  sympathy.  "  I  pity  him,  the  poor  fellow ! 
but  I  must  teach  him  a  lesson.  I  want  no  gossips  around 
me.  He  need  only  wear  the  uniform  two  weeks  or  so,  that 
will  bring  him  to  reason.  Then  I  will  pardon  him,  and 
receive  him  into  my  service  again.  He  is  a  good-natured  fel- 
low, and  would  not  betray  any  one  as  Kretzschmar  betrayed 
him." 

The  king  stepped  to  the  window  to  look  at  the  gentleman 
who  was  eagerly  engaged  in  conversation  with  the  castellan  of 
Sans-Souci.  At  this  instant  the  footman  entered  with  a 
sealed  note  for  the  king.  "  From  his  royal  highness  Prince 
Henry,"  said  he. 

"  AVho  brought  it?" 

"  The  gentleman  who  speaks  with  the  castellan  upon  the 
terrace.  I  wait  your  majesty's  commands." 

"Wait,  then."  The  note  ran  thus:  "Your  majesty,  my 
dearly-beloved  brother :  The  bearer,  Johann  Wolfgang  Goe- 
the, one  of  the  literati,  and  a  poet,  and  at  this  time  secretary 
of  legation  to  the  duchy  of  Saxe- Weimar,  is  a  great  favorite 
of  the  duke's,  our  nephew.  I  met  him  returning  from  the 
parade  in  company  with  the  duke,  who  expressed  to  me  the 
strong  desire  his  secretary  had  to  visit  the  celebrated  house  of 
the  great  philosopher  of  Sans-Souci,  and  see  the  room  once 
occupied  by  Voltaire.  I  could  not  well  refuse,  and  therefore 
address  these  few  lines  to  your  majesty  before  returning  to 
Berlin  with  the  duke,  who  will  dine  with  me,  accompanied 


GERMAN  LITERATURE  AND  THE  KING.  101 

by  his  secretary.  I  am  your  majesty's  most  humble  servant 
and  brother,  HENRY." 

"  Tell  the  castellan  that  I  grant  him  permission  to  show  the 
house  and  park  to  the  stranger ;  he  shall  take  care  not  to 
come  in  my  way,  so  that  I  shall  be  obliged  to  meet  him.  Tell 
this  aside,  that  you  may  not  be  overheard.  Hasten,  for  they 
have  already  been  waiting  some  time." 

The  king  walked  again  to  the  window,  and,  hidden  by  the 
curtain,  peeped  out.  "  So,  this  is  Herr  Goethe,  is  it? 
What  assurance!  There  he  stands,  sketching  the  house. 
What  wonderful  eyes  the  man  has !  With  what  a  proud,  con- 
fident manner  he  looks  around !  What  a  brow !  Truly  he  is 
a  handsome  fellow,  and  Herzberg  may  be  right  after  all. 
That  brow  betokens  thought,  and  from  those  eyes  there  flashes 
a  divine  light.  But  he  looks  overbearing  and  proud.  Now, 
I  am  doubly  pleased  that  I  refused  Herzberg  to  have  any  thing 
to  do  with  him.  Such  presumptive  geniuses  must  be  rather 
kept  back ;  then  they  feel  their  power,  and  strive  to  bring 
themselves  forward.  Yes !  I  believe  that  man  has  a  future. 
He  looks  like  the  youthful  god  Apollo,  who  may  have  con- 
descended to  descend  to  earth !  He  shall  not  entrap  me  witli 
his  beautiful  head.  If  he  is  the  man  who  makes  good  and 
bad  weather  in  Weimar,  he  shall  learn  that  rain  and  sunshine 
at  Sans-Souci  do  not  depend  upon  him;  that  the  sun  and 
clouds  here  do  not  care  whether  Herr  Goethe  is  in  the  world 
or  not.  For  sunshine  and  storm  we  depend  upon  the  Great 
Weather-Maker,  to  whom  we  must  all  bow;  evil  and  good 
days  in  Prussia  shall  emanate  from  me,  so  long  as  I  live. 
Sometimes  I  succeed  in  causing  a  little  sunshine,"  continued 
the  king.  "  I  believe  the  Prince  of  Prussia  has  to-day  felt 
the  happy  influence  of  the  sun's  rays;  and  while  it  is  dull  and 
lonely  at  Sans-Souci,  may  it  be  brighter  and  more  cheerful  at 
Charlottenburg !  Eh  bien!  old  boy,"  said  the  king,  stopping, 
"  you  are  playing  the  sentimental,  and  eulogizing  your  loneli- 
ness. Well,  well,  do  not  complain. — Oh,  come  to  me,  spirits 
of  my  friends,  and  hold  converse  with  me!  Voltaire,  D'Ar- 


102  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

gens,  and  my  beloved  Lord-Marshal  Keith!  Come  to  me, 
departed  souls,  with  the  memories  of  happier  days,  and  hover 
with  thy  cheering,  sunny  influence  over  the  wrinkled  brow  of 
old  Fritz!" 

While  the  lonely  king  implored  the  spirits  of  his  friends, 
to  brighten  with  their  presence  the  quiet,  gloomy  apartment 
at  Sans-Souci,  the  sun  shone  in  full  splendor  at  Charlotten- 
burg — the  sunshine  beaming  from  the  munificence  of  Freder- 
ick. Wilhelmine  Enke  had  passed  the  whole  day  in  admiring 
the  beautiful  and  tasteful  arrangement  of  the  villa.  Every 
piece  of  furniture,  every  ornament,  she  examined  attentively 
— all  filled  her  with  delight.  The  prince,  who  accompanied 
her  from  room  to  room,  listened  to  her  outbursts  of  pleasure, 
rejoicing. 

"  I  wish  that  I  could  often  prepare  such  happiness  for  you, 
dearest,  for  my  heart  is  twice  gladdened  to  see  your  beaming 
face." 

"  Keflected  from  your  own.  You  are  my  good  genius  upon 
earth.  You  have  caused  the  poor,  neglected  child  to  become 
the  rich  and  happy  woman.  To  you  I  owe  this  home,  this 
foot  of  earth,  which  I  can  call  my  own.  Here  blossom  the 
flowers  for  me — here  I  am  mistress,  and  those  who  enter 
must  come  as  my  guests,  and  honor  me.  All  this  I  owe  to 
you." 

"  Not  to  me,"  said  the  prince,  smiling;  "  I  only  gave  to  you 
what  was  given  to  me!  To  the  king  belong  your  thanks. 
Harsh  in  words,  but  gentle  in  deeds,  he  has  given  you  this 
refuge,  freeing  you  from  the  slavery  of  poverty,  from  the  sor- 
row of  being  homeless.  But  tell  it  not,  Wilhelmine.  The 
king  would  be  angry  if  it  were  known  that  he  not  only  toler- 
ated but  showed  great  generosity  to  you.  It  is  a  secret  that 
I  ought  not  even  to  disclose  to  you.  I  could  not  receive  your 
thanks,  for  I  have  not  deserved  them.  From  the  king  comes 
your  good  fortune,  not  from  me.  The  day  will  come  when  I 
can  requite  you,  when  the  poor  crown  prince  becomes  the  rich 
king.  On  that  day  the  golden  rain  shall  again  shower  upon 


GERMAN  LITERATURE  AND  THE  KING.  103 

you,  never  to  cease,  and,  vying  with  the  shower  of  gold,  the 
brightest  sunbeams  play  continually  around  you.  As  king,  I 
will  reward  your  fidelity  and  love,  which  you  have  proved  to 
the  poor  crown  prince,  with  splendor,  power,  and  riches. 
Until  then  rejoice  with  the  little  that  his  grace  has  accorded 
you,  and  await  the  much  that  love  will  one  day  bring  you. 
Farewell,  Wilhelmine,  the  evening  sets  in,  and  I  must  forth 
to  Potsdam.  The  king  would  never  pardon  me  if  I  did  not 
pass  the  last  evening  with  my  wife  in  the  circle  of  my  family. 
Farewell!" 

He  embraced  her  tenderly,  and  Wilhelmine  accompanied 
the  prince  to  the  carriage,  and  returned  to  survey  anew  the 
beautiful  rooms  which  were  now  her  own  possession.  An  un- 
speakable, unknown  feeling  was  roused  in  her,  and  voices, 
which  she  had  never  heard,  spoke  to  her  from  the  depths  of 
her  heart.  "  You  are  no  longer  a  despised,  homeless  creat- 
ure," they  whispered.  "  You  have  a  home,  a  foot  of  earth  to 
call  your  own.  Make  yourself  a  name,  that  you  may  be  of 
consequence  in  the  world.  You  are  clever  and  beautiful,  and 
with  your  prudence  and  beauty  you  can  win  a  glorious  future ! 
Remember  the  Marquise  de  Pompadour,  neglected  and  scorned 
as  you,  until  a  king  loved  her,  and  she  became  the  wife  of  a 
king,  and  all  France  bowed  down  to  her.  Even  the  Empress 
Maria  Theresa  honored  her  with  her  notice,  and  called  her 
cousin.  I  am  also  the  favorite  of  a  future  king,  and  I  will 
also  become  the  queen  of  my  king!" 

Wilhelmine  had  remained  standing  in  the  midst  of  the 
great  drawing-room,  which  she  was  passing  through,  listening 
to  these  seductive  voices,  to  these  strange  pictures  of  the 
future.  In  her  imagination  she  saw  herself  in  this  room  sur- 
rounded with  splendor  and  magnificence,  and  sparkling  with 
gems.  She  saw  around  her  elegantly-attired  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, in  brilliant  uniforms,  glittering  with  orders;  saw  every- 
where smiling  faces,  and  respectful  manners.  She  saw  all 
eyes  turned  to  her,  and  heard  only  flattering  words,  which 
resounded  for  her  from  every  lip — for  her,  once  so  despised 


104  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

and  scorned!  "  It  shall  be,  yes,  it  shall  be,"  cried  she  aloud. 
"  I  will  be  the  queen  of  my  king !  I  will  become  the  Prussian 
Marquise  de  Pompadour ;  that  I  swear  by  the  heads  of  my 
children,  by — " 

"Rather  swear  by  thy  own  beautiful  head,  Wilhelmme," 
said  a  voice  behind  her.  Startled,  she  turned,  and  beheld  the 
tall  figure  of  a  man,  wrapped  in  a  long  cloak,  who  stood  in 
the  open  door. 

"  Who  are  you?"  she  cried,  amazed.  "  How  dare  you  enter 
here?" 

The  figure  closed  the  door,  without  answering,  and,  slowly 
approaching  Wilhelmine,  fixed  his  black  eyes  upon  her  with 
a  searching  gaze.  She  tried  to  summon  help,  but  the  words 
died  on  her  lips;  her  cheeks  blanched  with  terror,  and,  as  if 
rooted  to  the  floor,  she  stood  with  outstretched  arms  implor- 
ing the  approaching  form.  The  figure  smiled,  but  there  was 
something  commanding  in  its  manner,  and  in  the  fiery  eyes, 
which  rested  upon  her.  When  quite  near  her,  it  raised  its 
right  hand  with  an  impatient  movement.  Immediately  her 
arms  fell  at  her  side,  her  cheeks  glowed,  and  a  bright  smile 
lighted  up  her  face.  Then  it  lifted  the  three-cornered,  gold- 
bordered  hat  which  shaded  its  face,  nodding  to  her. 

"Do  you  recognize  me,  Wilhelmine?"  he  asked,  in  a  sweet, 
melodious  voice. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  her  eyes  still  fixed  upon  him.  "  You 
are  Cagliostro,  the  great  ruler  and  magician." 

"  Where  did  we  meet?" 

"  I  remember ;  it  was  in  Paris,  at  the  house  of  the  governor 
of  the  Bastile,  M.  Delaunay.  You  caused  me  to  read  in  a 
glass  the  future — a  bright,  glorious  future.  I  was  surrounded 
with  splendor  and  magnificence.  I  saw  myself  glittering  with 
gems;  a  king  knelt  at  my  feet.  I  was  encircled  by  richly- 
attired  courtiers,  who  bowed  before  me,  and  honored  me, 
whispering:  'We  salute  you,  0  beautiful  countess;  be 
gracious  to  us,  exalted  princess!'  It  sounded  like  heavenly 
music,  and  I  shouted  with  delight." 


GERMAN   LITERATURE  AND  THE  KING.  105 

"Was  that  all?"  said  Cagliostro,  solemnly,  "that  the  crys- 
tal showed  you." 

Shuddering,  she  murmured:  "The  splendor,  glory,  and 
power  vanished,  and  all  was  changed  to  a  fearful  picture.  I 
saw  myself  in  a  plain,  dark  dress,  in  a  deserted,  lonely  room, 
with  iron-barred  windows,  and  a  small  iron  door  closed  in  the 
dreary  white  walls — it  was  a  prison!  And  I  heard  whispered 
around  me:  'Woe  to  you,  fallen  and  dethroned  one!  You 
have  wasted  away  the  days  of  your  splendor,  submit  in  patience 
to  the  days  of  your  shame  and  humiliation. '  I  could  not  en- 
dure to  behold  it,  and  screamed  with  terror,  fainting." 

"  You  demanded  to  see  the  future,  and  I  showed  it  to  you," 
said  Cagliostro,  earnestly.  "  Though  I  let  the  light  shine 
into  your  soul,  still  it  was  dark  within ;  you  pursued  the  way 
of  unbelief,  and  desired  not  to  walk  in  the  way  of  knowledge. 
I  sent  messengers  twice  to  you  to  lead  you  in  the  right  path, 
and  you  sent  them  laughing  away.  Recall  what  I  told  you  in 
Paris.  I  will  it!" 

"  I  remember,  master ;  you  said  that  in  the  most  important 
days  of  my  life  you  would  come  to  me,  and  extend  to  me  a 
helping  hand :  if  I  seized  it,  the  first  picture  would  be  ful- 
filled; if  I  refused  it,  the  prison  awaited  me!" 

"  I  have  kept  my  word :  to-day  is  an  eventful  day  in  your 
life;  you  have  risen  from  want  and  degradation — you  have 
mounted  the  first  rounds  of  the  ladder  of  your  greatness  and 
power.  You  are  the  mistress  of  this  house." 

"  How  did  you  know  it?"  asked  Wilhelmine,  astonished. 

With  a  pitying  smile  he  answered:  "  I  know  every  thing 
that  I  will,  and  I  see  many  things  that  I  would  willingly  close 
my  eyes  upon.  I  see  your  future,  and  my  soul  pities  you,  un- 
happy one ;  you  are  lost  if  you  do  not  seize  the  hand  extended 
to  you.  You  see  not  the  abyss  which  opens  before  you,  and 
you  will  fall  bleeding  and  with  broken  limbs." 

"Mercy,  mercy!"  she  groaned — "stretch  out  your  hand 
and  protect  me." 

Wilhelmine  sank  as  if  crushed  to  the  earth.     Cagliostro 

a 


106  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

bent  over  her,  and  stroked  her  cold,  pale  face,  breathing  upon 
her  the  hot  breath  of  his  lips.  "  I  will  pity  you — I  will  pro- 
tect you.  Rise,  my  daughter!"  He  assisted  her  to  rise,  and 
imprinted  a  passionate  kiss  upon  her  hand.  "  From  this  hour 
I  count  you  as  one  of  mine,  he  said;  you  shall  be  received 
into  the  holy  band  of  spirits !  You  shall  be  consecrated,  and 
enter  the  Inner  Temple.  Are  you  prepared?" 

"  I  am,  master,"  she  humbly  replied. 

"  To-morrow  the  Temple  brothers  will  open  the  temple  of 
bliss  to  you.  You  shall  hear,  see,  and  be  silent. " 

"  I  will  see,  hear,  and  be  silent,"  she  murmured. 

"When  evening  sets  in,  send  away  your    servants,"  com- 
manded Cagliostro.     "  Let  the  doors  stand  open ;  they  shall 
be  guarded,  that  no  one  may  enter  but  the  summoned.     Art 
thou  prepared?" 
I  am,  master!" 

'Withdraw  now  to  your  room,  Wilhelmine,  and  elevate 
your  thoughts  in  devotion  and  contrition,  and  await  the 
future.  Kneel,  my  daughter,  kneel!" 

She  sank  upon  her  knees.     "  Bless  me,  master,  bless  me!" 

"I  bless  you!" 

She  felt  a  hot,  burning  sensation  upon  her  forehead,  and 
suddenly  a  bright  light  shone  in  the  obscure  room.  Wilhel- 
mine screamed,  and  covered  her  eyes.  When  she  ventured  to 
look  up,  only  soft  moonlight  penetrated  from  the  high  win- 
dow into  the  apartment,  and  she  was  alone.  "  To-morrow — 
to-morrow,  at  midnight!"  she  murmured,  shuddering,  and 
casting  a  timid  look  around. 


BOOK  II 

ROSICRUCIANS  AND  POWERFUL   GENIUSES. 


CHAPTER    X. 

GOETHE    IN    BERLIN. 

"I  TVisnlonly  knew  whether  it  were  a  man,  or  whether  the 
god  Apollo  has  really  appeared  to  me  in  human  form,"  sighed 
Courector  Moritz,  as  he  paced  his  room — a  strange,  gloomy 
apartment,  quite  in  keeping  with  the  singular  occupant — • 
gray  walls,  with  Greek  apothegms  inscribed  upon  them  in 
large  letters — dirty  windows,  pasted  over  with  strips  of  paper , 
high,  open  book-shelves,  containing  several  hundred  books, 
some  neatly  arranged,  others  thrown  together  in  confusion. 
In  the  midst  of  a  chaos  of  books  and  papers  stood  a  colossal 
bust  of  the  Apollo-Belvedere  upon  a  table  near  the  window, 
the  whiteness  and  beauty  of  which  were  in  singular  contrast 
to  the  dust  and  disorder  which  surrounded  it. 

At  the  back  of  the  room  was  an  open  wardrobe,  filled  with 
gay-colored  garments.  A  beautiful  carpet  of  brilliant  colors 
covered  the  middle  of  the  dirty  floor,  and  upon  this  paced  to 
and  fro  the  strange  occupant  of  this  strange  room,  Philip 
Charles  Moritz,  conrector  of  the  college  attached  to  the  Gray 
Monastery.  There  was  no  trace  of  the  bearing  and  demeanor 
which  distinguished  him  at  the  parade  at  Potsdam  yester- 
day— no  trace  of  the  young  elegant,  dressed  in  the  latest  fash- 
ion. To-day  he  wore  a  white  garment,  of  no  particular  style, 
tied  at  the  neck  with  a  red  ribbon  (full  sleeves,  buttoned  at 
the  wrist  with  lace-cuffs) ;  and,  falling  from  the  shoulders  in 


108  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

scanty  folds  to  just  below  the  knees,  it  displayed  his  bare 
legs,  and  his  feet  shod  with  red  sandals. 

His  hair  was  unpowdered,  and  not  tied  in  a  cue,  according 
io  the  fashion,  but  hung  in  its  natural  brown  color,  flowing 
}uite  loosely,  merely  confined  by  a  red  ribbon  wound  in 
imong  his  curls,  and  hanging  down  in  short  bows  at  each 
temple  like  the  frontlet  of  the  old  Eomans.  Thus,  in  this 
singular  costume,  belonging  half  to  old  Adam,  and  half  to 
the  old  Komans,  Philip  Moritz  walked  back  and  forth  upon 
the  carpet,  ruminating  upon  the  beaming  beauty  of  the 
stranger  whose  acquaintance  he  had  so  recently  made,  and 
whom  he  could  not  banish  from  his  thoughts.  "  What  wicked 
demon  induced  me  to  go  to  Potsdam  yesterday?"  said  he  to 
himself.  "  I  who  hate  mankind,  and  believe  that  they  are 
all  of  vulgar,  ordinary  material,  yield  to  the  longing  for  so- 
ciety, and  am  driven  again  into  the  world." 

A  loud  knocking  at  the  door  interrupted  this  soliloquy,  and 
the  door  opened  at  the  commanding  "  Come  in!" 

"  It  is  he,  it  is  Apollo,"  cried  Moritz,  joyfully.  "  Come  in, 
sir,  come  in — I  have  awaited  you  with  the  most  ardent  desire." 

Moritz  rushed  to  the  young  gentleman,  who  had  just  closed 
the  door,  and  whose  beautiful,  proud  face  lighted  up  with  a 
smile  at  the  singular  apparition  before  him.  "  Pardon  me,  I 
disturb  you,  sir ;  you  were  about  to  make  your  toilet.  Permit 
re  to  return  after  you  have  dressed." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  cried  Moritz,  eagerly.  "You  find 
,0e  in  my  usual  home-dress — I  like  my  ease  and  freedom,  and 
.  am  of  opinion  that  mankind  will  never  be  happy  and  con- 
;ented  until  they  return  to  their  natural  state,  wearing  no 
more  clothing,  but  glorying  in  the  beauty  which  bountiful 
Nature  has  bestowed  upon  her  most  loved  and  chosen 
subjects." 

"Sir,"  cried  the  other,  laughing,  "then  benevolent  Nature 
should  adapt  her  climate  accordingly,  and  relieve  her  dear 
creatures  from  the  inclination  to  take  cold." 

"You  may  be  right,"  said  Moritz,  earnestly,  "but  we  will 


GOETHE  IN  BERLIN.  109 

not  quarrel  about  it.  Will  you  not  keep  your  promise  to  re- 
veal to  me  your  name?" 

"  Tell  me  your  own  once  more.  Tell  me  if  this  youth, 
whom  I  see  before  me  in  this  ideal  dress,  is  the  same  modest 
young  man  whom  I  met  at  the  parade  yesterday,  and  who 
presented  himself  as  Philip  Moritz?  Then  please  to  inform 
me  whether  you  are  the  Philip  Moritz  who  wrote  a  spirited 
and  cordial  letter  to  Johann  Wolfgang  Goethe  some  years 
since  about  the  tragedy  of  'Stella,'  the  representation  of 
which  had  been  forbidden  at  that  time?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  the  same  Philip  Moritz,  who  wrote  to  the  poet 
Goethe  to  prove  to  him,  with  the  most  heart-felt  sympathy, 
that  we  are  not  all  such  stupid  fellows  in  Berlin  as  Nicolai, 
who  pronounced  the  tragedy  'Stella'  immoral;  that  it  is  only, 
as  Goethe  himself  called  it,  'a  play  for  lovers.' ' 

"  And  will  you  not  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  what  response 
the  poet  made  to  your  amiable  letter?" 

"  Proud  and  amiable  at  the  same  time,  most  gracefully  he 
answered  me,  but  not  with  words.  He  sent  me  his  tragedy 
'Stella'  bound  in  rose-colored  satin.*  See  there!  it  is  before 
the  bust  of  Apollo  on  my  writing-table,  where  it  has  lain  for 
three  years!" 

"What  did  he  write  to  you  at  the  same  time?" 

"  Nothing — why  should  he  ?  Was  not  the  book  sufficient 
answer?" 

"Did  he  write  nothing?  Permit  me  to  say  to  you  that 
Goethe  behaved  like  a  brute  and  an  ass  to  you!" 

"  Sir,"  cried  Moritz,  angrily,  "I  forbid  you  to  speak  of  mj 
favorite  in  so  unbecoming  a  manner  in  my  room!" 

"  Sir,"  cried  the  other,  "you  dare  not  fo  bid  me.  I  insist 
upon  it  that  that  man  is  sometimes  a  brute  and  an  ass!  I 
Ban  penitently  acknowledge  it  to  you,  dear  Moritz,  for  I  am 
Johann  Wolfgang  Goethe  himself!" 

"  Yci,  you  are  Goethe!"   shouted  Moritz,  as  he  seized  him 

•;:  "  Goethe  in  Berlin." — Sketches  from  his  life  at  the  anniversary  of  his  one  hun- 
dredth birthday. 


110  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

with  both  hands,  drawing  him  toward  the  window,  and  gazing 
at  him  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm  and  delight.  "  Yes,  yes," 
he  shouted,  "you  are  either  Apollo  or  Goethe!  The  gods  are 
not  so  stupid  as  to  return  to  this  miserable  world,  so  you  must 
be  Goethe.  No  other  man  would  dare  to  sport  such  a  godlike 
face  as  you  do,  you  favorite  of  the  gods!" 

He  then  loosed  his  hold  upon  the  smiling  poet,  and  sprang 
to  the  writing-table.  "Listen,  Apollo,"  he  cried,  with  wild 
joy.  "  Goethe  is  here,  thy  dear  son  is  here !  Hurrah !  long 
live  Goethe!" 

He  took  the  rose-colored  little  book,  and  shouting  tossed  it 
to  the  ceiling,  and  sprang  about  like  a  mad  bacchant,  and 
finally  threw  himself  upon  the  carpet,  rolling  over  and  over 
like  a  frolicksome,  good-natured  child  upon  its  nurse's  lap. 

Goethe  laughed  aloud.  "  What  are  you  doing,  dear  Moritz? 
What  does  this  mean?"  he  asked. 

Moritz  stopped  a  moment,  looking  up  to  Goethe  with  a  face 
beaming  with  joy.  "  I  cannot  better  express  my  happiness. 
Language  is  too  feeble — too  poor!" 

"  If  that  is  the  case,  then  I  will  join  you, "  said  Goethe, 
throwing  himself  upon  the  carpet,  rolling  and  tumbling 
about.  * 

All  at  once  Moritz  jumped  up  without  saying  a  word, 
rushed  to  the  wardrobe,  dressed  himself  in  modest  attire  in 
a  few  moments,  and  presented  himself  to  Goethe,  who  rose 
from  the  carpet  quite  astounded  at  the  sudden  metamorphosis. 
Then  he  seized  his  three-cornered  hat  to  go  out,  when  Goethe 
held  him  fast. 

"  You  are  not  going  into  the  street,  sir !  You  forget  that 
your  hair  is  flying  about  as  if  unloosed  by  a  divine  madness." 

"  Sir,  people  are  quite  accustomed  to  see  me  in  a  strange 
costume,  and  the  most  of  them  think  me  crazy." 

*  This  scene  which  I  relate,  and  which  Teichman  also  mentions  in  his  "Leaves  of 
Memory  of  Goethe  in  Berlin,"  has  been  often  related  to  me  by  Ludwig  Tieck  exactly 
in  this  manner.  Teichman  believes  it  was  the  poet  Burman.  But  I  remember  dis- 
tinctly that  Ludwig  Tieck  told  me  that  it  was  the  eccentric  savant,  Philip  Moritz,  with 
whom  Goethe  made  the  acquaintance  in  this  original  manner.— Tlie  Authoress. 


GOETHE  IN  BERLIN.  Ill 

"  You  are  aware  that  insane  people  believe  that  they  only 
are  sane,  and  that  reasonable  people  are  insane.  You  will 
grant  me  that  it  is  much  more  like  a  crazy  person  to  strew  his 
hair  with  flour,  and  tie  it  up  in  that  ridiculous  cue,  than  to 
wear  it  as  God  made  it,  uncombed  and  unparted,  as  I  do  my 
beautiful  hair,  and  for  which  they  call  me  crazy!  But,  for 
Heaven's  sake,  where  are  you  going?"  asked  Goethe,  strug- 
gling to  retain  him. 

"  I  am  going  to  trumpet  through  every  street  in  Berlin  tliat 
the  author  of  'Werther,'  of  'Clavigo,'  of  'Gotz  von  Berlichri- 
gen, '  of  '  Stella, '  of  the  most  beautiful  poems,  is  in  my  hum- 
ble apartment.  I  will  call  in  all  the  little  poets  and  savarts 
of  Berlin ;  I  will  drag  Mammler,  Nicolai,  Engel,  Spaulding, 
Gedicke,  Plumicke,  Karschin,  and  Burman  here.  They  shall 
all  come  to  see  Wolfgang  Goethe,  and  adore  him.  The  in- 
significant poets  shall  pay  homage  to  thee,  the  true  poet,  the 
favorite  of  Apollo." 

"  My  dear  Moritz,  if  you  leave  me  for  that,  I  will  run  away, 
and  you  will  trouble  yourself  in  vain. " 

"  Impossible ;  you  will  be  my  prisoner  until  I  return.  I 
shall  lock  you  in,  and  you  cannot  escape  by  the  window,  as  I 
fortunately  live  on  the  third  story." 

"But  I  shall  not  wait  to  be  locked  in,"  answered  Goethe, 
slightly  annoyed.  "  I  came  to  see  you,  and  if  you  run  away  I 
shall  go  also,  and  I  advise  you  not  to  try  to  prevent  me." 
His  voice  resounded  through  the  apartment,  growing  louder 
as  he  spoke,  his  cheeks  flushed,  and  his  high,  commanding 
brow  contracted. 

"Jupiter  Tonans!"  cried  Moritz,  regarding  him,  "you  are 
truly  Jupiter  Tonans  in  person,  and  I  bow  before  you  and 
obey  your  command.  I  shall  remain  to  worship  you,  and  gaze 
at  you." 

"  And  it  may  be  possible  to  speak  in  a  reasonable  manner 
to  me,"  said  Goethe,  coaxingly.  "Away  with  sentimentality 
and  odors  of  incense !  We  are  no  sybarites,  to  feed  on  sweet- 
meats and  cakes;  but  we  are  men  who  have  a  noble  aim  in 


112  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

view,  attained  only  by  a  thorny  path.  Our  eyes  must  re- 
main fixed  upon  the  goal,  and  nothing  must  divert  them 
from  it." 

"What  is  the  aim  that  we  should  strive  for?"  asked  Mor- 
itz,  his  whole  being  suddenly  changing,  and  his  manner  ex- 
pressing the  greatest  depression  and  sadness. 

Goethe  smiled.  "  How  can  you  ask,  as  if  you  did  not  know 
it  yourself.  Self-knowledge  should  be  our  first  aim!  The 
ancient  philosophers  were  wise  to  have  inscribed  over  the  en- 
trances to  their  temples,  'Know  thyself,'  in  order  to  remind 
all  approaching,  to  examine  themselves  before  they  entered 
the  halls  of  the  gods.  Is  not  the  human  heart  equally  a  tem- 
ple? only  the  demons  and  the  gods  strive  together  therein, 
unfortunately.  To  drive  the  former  out,  and  give  place  to 
the  latter,  should  be  our  aim ;  and  when  once  purified,  and 
room  is  given  for  good  deeds  and  great  achievements,  we  shall 
not  rest  satisfied  simply  to  conquer,  but  rise  with  gladness  to 
build  altars  upon  those  places  which  we  have  freed  from  the 
demons;  for  that,  we  must  steadily  keep  in  view  truth  and 
reality,  and  not  hide  them  with  a  black  veil,  or  array  them  in 
party-colored  rags.  Our  ideas  must  be  clear  about  the  con- 
sequences of  things,  that  we  may  not  be  like  those  foolish  men 
who  drink  wine  every  evening  and  complain  of  headache  every 
morning,  resorting  to  preventives." 

Did  Goethe  know  the  struggles  and  dissensions  which  rent 
the  heart  of  the  young  man  to  whom  he  spoke?  Had  his 
searching  eyes  read  the  secrets  which  were  hidden  in  that 
darkened  soul?  He  regarded  him  as  he  spoke  with  so  much 
commiseration  that  Moritz's  heart  softened  under  the  genial 
influence  of  sympathy  and  kindness.  A  convulsive  trembling 
seized  him,  his  cheeks  were  burning  red,  and  his  features  ex- 
pressed the  struggle  within.  Suddenly  he  burst  into  tears. 
"I  am  very,  very  wretched,"  he  sighed,  with  a  voice  sufEo- 
cated  by  weeping,  and  sank  upon  a  chair,  sobbing  aloud,  and 
covering  his  face  with  his  hands. 

Goethe  approached  him,  and  laid  his  hand  gently  upon  his 


GOETHE  IN  BERLIN.  113 

shoulder.     "  Why  are  you  so  miserable?     Is  there  any  human 
being  who  can  help  you?"  he  kindly  inquired. 

"Yes,"  sobbed  Moritz;  "there  are  those  who  could,  but 
they  will  not,  and  I  am  lost.  I  stand  upon  the  brink  of  a 
precipice,  with  Insanity  staring  at  me,  grinning  and  showing 
her  teeth.  I  know  it,  but  cannot  retreat.  I  wear  the  mask 
of  madness  to  conceal  my  careworn  face.  Your  divine  eyes 
could  not  be  deceived.  You  have  not  mistaken  the  caricature 
for  the  true  face.  You  have  penetrated  beneath  the  gay  tat- 
ters, and  have  seen  the  misery  which  sought  to  hide  itself 
there. " 

"I  saw  it,  and  I  bewailed  it,  as  a  friend  pities  a  friery 
whom  he  would  willingly  aid  if  he  only  knew  how  to  do  it." 

"No  one  can  help  me,"  sighed  Moritz,  shaking  his  head 
mournfully.  "  I  am  lost,  irremediably  lost!" 

"  No  one  is  lost  who  will  save  himself.  He  who  is  wrecked 
by  a  storm  and  tossed  upon  the  raging  sea,  ought  to  be  upon 
the  watch  for  a  plank  by  which  he  can  save  himself.  He 
must  keep  his  eyes  open,  and  not  let  his  arms  hang  idly;  for 
if  he  allows  himself  to  be  swallowed  up  he  becomes  a  self- 
murderer,  who,  like  Erostratus,  destroyed  the  holy  temple, 
and  gained  eternal  fame  through  eternal  shame." 

"  What  are  you  saying?"  cried  Moritz,  "you,  the  author  of 
'Werther,'  of  that  immortal  work  which  has  drunk  the  tears 
of  the  whole  world,  and  has  become  the  Holy  Testament  for 
unhappy  souls!" 

"Bather  say  for  lovers,"  replied  Goethe,  "and  add  also 
those  troubled  spirits  who  think  themselves  poetical  when  they 
whine  and  howl ;  who  cry  over  misfortune  if  Fate  denies  them 
the  toy  which  their  vanity,  their  ambition,  or  their  amorous- 
ness, had  chosen.  Do  not  burden  me  with  what  I  am  not 
guilty  of;  do  not  say  that  wine  is  a  poison,  because  it  is  not 
good  for  the  sick.  It  is  intended  for  well  people ;  it  animates 
and  inspires  them  to  fresh  vigor.  Now  please  to  consider 
yourself  well,  and  not  ill." 

"  I  am  ill,  indeed  I  am  ill,"  sighed  Moritz.     "  Oh!  continu? 


114  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

to  regard  me  with  those  eyes,  which  shine  like  stars  into  my 
benighted  soul.  I  feel  like  one  who  has  long  wandered 
through  the  desert,  his  feet  burnt  with  the  sand,  his  hair 
scorched  with  the  sun,  and,  exhausted  with  hunger  and  thirst, 
feels  death  approaching.  Suddenly  he  discovers  a  green  oasis., 
and  a  being  with  outstretched  arms  calling  to  him  with  a  soft, 
angel-like  voice:  'Come,  save  thyself  in  my  arms;  feel  that 
thou  art  not  alone  in  the  desert,  for  I  am  with  thee,  and  will 
sustain  thee!' ' 

"  And  I  say  it  to  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,"  said 
Goethe,  affectionately.  "  Yes,  here  is  one,  who  is  only  too 
happy  to  aid  you,  who  can  sympathize  with  every  sorrow,  be- 
cause he  has  himself  felt  it  in  his  own  breast,  who  may  even 
say  of  himself,  like  Ovid:  'Nothing  human  is  strange  to 
me.'  If  I  can  aid  you,  say  so,  and  I  will  willingly  do  it." 

"No,  you  cannot,"  murmured  Morifcz. 

"  At  least  confide  your  grief  to  me;  that  is  an  alleviation." 

"  Oh,  how  kind  and  generous  you  are!"  Moritz  said,  press- 
ing the  hand  of  his  new-made  friend  to  his  bosom.  "  How 
much  good  it  does  me  to  listen  to  you,  and  look  at  your  beau- 
tiful face !  I  believed  myself  steeled  against  every  thing  that 
could  happen  to  mortals;  that  the  fool  which  I  would  be  had 
killed  within  me  the  higher  man.  I  was  almost  proud  to 
have  succeeded  in  deceiving  men;  that  they  mistook  my  gro- 
tesque mask  for  my  real  face;  that  they  point  the  finger 
at  me,  and  laugh,  saying  to  each  other:  'That  is  a  fool,  an 
original,  whom  Nature  herself  has  chosen  as  a  kind  of  court 
fool  to  society. '  No  one  has  understood  the  cry  of  distress  of 
my  soul.  Those  who  laughed  at  the  comical  fellow  by  day, 
little  dreamed  of  the  anguish  and  misery  in  which  he  sighed 
away  the  night." 

"You  not  only  wrong  yourself,  but  you  wrong  mankind," 
said  Goethe,  kindly.  "  In  the  world,  and  in  literature,  you 
bear  an  honored  name;  every  one  of  education  is  familiar 
with  your  excellent  work  on  'Prosody  of  the  German  Lan- 
guage*— has  read  also  your  spirited  Journey  to  England. 


GOETHE  IN  BERLIN.  115 

You  have  no  right  to  ask  that  one  should  separate  the  kernel 
from  the  shell  in  hastily  passing  by.  If  you  surround  your- 
self with  a  wall  bedaubed  with  caricatures,  you  cannot  expect 
that  people  will  look  behind  what  seems  an  entrance  to  a 
puppet-show,  to  find  holy  temples,  blooming  gardens,  or  a 
church-yard  filled  with  graves." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  resemble,"  said  Moritz,  with  a  melan- 
choly air.  "  From  the  depths  of  my  soul  it  seems  so.  Noth- 
ing but  buried  hopes,  murdered  ideals,  and  wishes  trodden 
under  foot.  From  childhood  I  have  exerted  myself  against 
circumstances ;  I  have  striven  my  whole  life — a  pledge  of  my 
being  against  unpropitious  Fate.  Although  the  son  of  a  poor 
tradesman,  Nature  had  given  me  a  thirst  for  knowledge,  a 
love  for  science  and  art.  On  account  of  it  I  passed  for  a 
stupid  idler  in  the  family,  who  would  not  contribute  to  his 
own  support.  Occupation  with  books  was  accounted  idleness 
and  laziness  by  my  father.  I  was  driven  to  work  with  blows 
and  ill-treatment;  and,  that  I  might  the  sooner  equal  my 
father  as  a  good  shoemaker,  I  was  bound  to  the  stool  near  his 
own.  During  the  long,  fearful  days  I  was  forced  to  sit  and 
draw  the  pitched,  offensive  thread  through  the  leather,  and 
when  my  arms  were  lame,  and  sank  weary  at  my  side,  then  I 
was  invigorated  to  renewed  exertion  with  blows.  Finally, 
with  the  courage  of  despair,  I  fled  from  this  life  of  torture. 
Unacquainted  with  the  world,  and  inexperienced,  I  hoped  for 
the  sympathy  of  men,  but  in  vain.  No  one  would  relieve  or 
assist  me!  Days  and  weeks  long  I  have  wandered  around  in 
me  forest  adjoining  our  little  village,  and  lived  like  the 
animals,  upon  roots  and  herbs.  Yet  I  was  happy!  I  had 
taken  with  me  in  my  flight  two  books  which  I  had  received  as 
prizes,  in  the  happy  days  that  my  father  permitted  me  to  go 
to  the  Latin  school.  The  decision  of  the  teacher  that  I  was 
created  for  a  scholar,  so  terrified  my  father,  that  he  took  me 
from  the  school,  to  turn  the  embryo  savant,  who  would  be 
good  for  nothing,  into  a  shoemaker,  who  might  earn  his 
bread.  My  two  darling  books  remained  to  me.  In  the  forest 


116  OLD  FEITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

solitude  I  read  Ovid  and  Virgil  until  I  had  memorized  them, 
and  recited  them  aloud,  in  pathetic  tones,  for  my  own  amuse- 
ment. To-day  I  recall  those  weeks  in  the  forest  stillness  as 
the  happiest,  purest,  and  most  beautiful  of  my  life." 

"And  they  undoubtedly  are,"  said  Goethe,  kindly.  "The 
return  to  Nature  is  the  return  to  one's  self.  Who  will  be  an 
able,  vigorous  man  and  remain  so,  must,  above  all  things,  live 
in  and  with  Nature." 

"But  oh!  this  happy  life  did  not  long  continue,"  sighed 
Moritz.  "  My  father  discovered  my  retreat,  and  came  with 
sheriffs  and  bailiffs  to  seize  me  like  a  criminal — like  a  wild 
animal.  With  my  hands  bound,  I  was  brought  back  in  broad 
day,  amid  the  jeers  of  street  boys.  Perroj*  me  to  pass  in 
silence  the  degradation,  the  torture  whic'n  followed.  I  be- 
came a  burden  to  myself,  and  longed  for  death.  The  ill- 
treatment  of  my  father  finally  revived  my  courage  to  run 
away  the  second  time.  I  went  to  a  large  town  near  by,  and 
decided  to  earn  my  living  rather  than  return  to  my  father. 
To  fulfil  the  prophecy  of  my  teacher  was  my  ambition.  The 
privations  that  I  endured,  the  life  I  led,  I  will  not  recount 
to  you.  I  performed  the  most  menial  service,  and  worked 
months  like  a  beast  of  burden.  For  want  of  a  shelter,  I  slept 
in  deserted  yards  and  tumble-down  houses.  Upon  a  piece  of 
bread  and  a  drink  of  water  I  lived,  saving,  with  miserly 
greediness,  the  money  which  I  earned  as  messenger  or  day- 
laborer.  At  the  end  of  a  year,  I  had  earned  sufficient  to  buy 
an  old  suit  of  clothes  at  a  second-hand  clothing-store,  and 
present  myself  to  the  director  of  the  Gymnasium,  imploring 
him  to  receive  me  as  pupil.  Bitterly  weeping,  I  opened  my 
heart  to  him,  and  disclosed  the  torture  of  my  sad  life  as  a 
child,  and  begged  him  to  give  me  the  opportunity  to  educate 
myself.  He  repulsed  me  with  scorn,  and  threatened  to  give 
me  over  to  the  police,  as  a  runaway,  as  a  vagabond,  and  beg- 
gar. 'I  am  no  beggar!'  I  cried,  vehemently,  'I  will  be  under 
obligation  to  no  one.  I  have  money  to  pay  for  two  years  in 
advance,  and  during  this  time  I  shall  be  able  to  earn  sufficient 


GOETHE  IN  BERLIN.  117 

to  pay  for  the  succeeding  two  years. '  This  softened  the  anger 
of  the  crabbed  director;  he  was  friendly  and  kind,  and  prom- 
ised me  his  assistance." 

"Poor  boy!"  sighed  Goethe.  "So  young,  and  yet  forced 
to  learn  that  there  is  a  power  to  which  not  only  kings  and 
princes,  but  mind  must  bow;  to  which  science  and  art  have 
submitted,  as  to  their  Msecenas!  This  power  opened  the 
doors  of  the  Gymnasium  to  you." 

"  It  was  even  thus.  The  director  took  pity  upon  me,  and 
permitted  me  to  enter  upon  my  studies  at  once ;  he  did  more, 
he  assured  my  future.  Oh,  he  was  a  humane  and  kind  man! 
When  he  learned  that  I  possessed  nothing  but  the  little  sum 
to  which  the  drops  of  blood  of  a  year's  toil  still  clung, 
then — " 

"He  returned  it  to  you,"  interrupted  Goethe,  kindly. 

"No,  he  offered  me  board,  lodging,  and  clothing,  during 
my  course  at  the  Gymnasium." 

"  That  was  well,"  cried  Goethe.  "  Tell  me  the  name  of  this 
honorable  man,  that  I  may  meet  him  and  extend  to  him  my 
hand." 

A  troubled  smile  spread  over  Philip's  face.  "  Permit  me 
for  the  time  being  to  conceal  the  name,"  he  replied.  "I  re- 
ceived the  generous  proposal  gratefully,  and  asked,  deeply 
moved,  if  there  were  no  services  which  I  could  return  for  so 
much  kindness  and  generosity.  It  proved  that  there  were, 
and  the  director  made  them  known  to  me.  He  was  un- 
married, hence  the  necessity  of  men's  service.  I  should  be 
society  for  him — be  a  companion,  in  fact;  I  should  do  what 
every  grateful  son  would  do  for  his  father — help  him  dress, 
keep  his  room  in  order,  and  prepare  his  breakfast." 

"That  meant  that  you  should  be  his  servant!"  cried  Goe- 
the, indignant. 

"  Only  in  the  morning,"  replied  Moritz,  smiling.  "  Even- 
ings and  nights  I  should  have  the  honor  to  be  his  amanuensis; 
I  should  look  over  the  studies  of  the  scholars,  and  correct 
their  exercises;  and  when  I  had  made  sufficient  progress,  it 


118  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

should  be  my  duty  to  give  two  hours  to  different  classes,  and 
I  should  read  aloud  or  play  cards  with  the  director  on  leisure 
evenings.  Besides,  I  was  obliged  to  promise  never  to  leave 
the  house  without  his  permission ;  never  to  speak  to,  or  hold 
intercourse  with,  any  one  outside  the  hours  of  instruction. 
All  these  conditions  were  written  down,  and  signed  by  both 
parties,  as  if  a  business  contract." 

"  A  transaction  by  which  a  human  soul  was  bargained  for!" 
thundered  Goethe.  "  Keveal  to  me,  now,  the  name  of  this 
trader  of  souls,  that  I  may  expose  him  to  public  shame!" 

"He  died  a  year  since,"  replied  Moritz,  softened.  "God 
summoned  him  to  judgment.  When  the  physician  announced 
to  him  that  the  cancer  was  incurable,  when  he  felt  death  ap- 
proaching, he  sent  for  me,  and  begged  my  forgiveness,  with 
tears  and  deep  contrition.  I  forgave  him,  so  let  me  cease  to 
recall  the  life  I  passed  with  him.  By  the  sweat  of  my  brow 
I  was  compelled  to  serve  him ;  for  seven  long  years  I  was  his 
slave.  I  sold  myself  for  the  sake  of  knowledge,  I  was  consoled 
by  progress.  I  was  the  servant,  companion,  jester,  and  slave 
of  my  tyrant,  but  I  was  also  the  disciple,  the  priest  of  learn- 
ing. In  my  own  room  my  chains  fell  off.  In  the  lonely 
night-watches  I  communed  with  the  great,  the  immortal 
spirits  of  Horace,  Virgil,  and  even  the  proud  Caesar,  and  the 
divine  Homer.  Those  solitary  but  happy  hours  of  the  nighi 
are  never  to  be  forgotten,  never  to  be  portrayed;  they  re- 
freshed me  for  the  trials  of  the  day,  and  enabled  me  to  endure 
them !  At  the  close  of  seven  years  I  was  prepared  to  enter 
the  university,  and  the  bargain  between  my  master  and  myself 
was  also  at  an  end.  Freed  from  my  tyrant,  I  bent  my  steps 
toward  Frankfort  University,  to  feel  my  liberty  enchained 
anew.  For  seven  years  I  had  been  the  slave  of  the  director ; 
now  I  became  the  slave  of  poverty,  forced  to  labor  to  live ! 
Oh,  I  cannot  recall  those  scenes!  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  dur- 
ing one  year  I  had  no  fixed  abode,  never  tasted  warm  food. 
But  it  is  passed — I  have  conquered !  After  years  of  struggle, 
of  exertion,  of  silent  misery,  only  relieved  by  my  stolen  hours 


GOETHE  IN  BERLIN.  119 

of  blissful  study,  I  gained  my  reward.  I  was  free !  My  ex- 
amination passed,  I  was  honored  with  the  degrees  of  Doctor 
of  Philosophy  and  Master  of  Arts.  After  many  intervening 
events,  I  was  appointed  conrector  of  the  college  attached  to 
the  Gray  Monastery,  which  position  now  supports  me." 

"God  be  praised,  I  breathe  freely!"  answered  Goethe,  with 
one  of  those  sunny  smiles  which,  in  a  moment  of  joyful  ex- 
citement, lighted  up  his  face.  "  I  feel  like  one  shipwrecked, 
who  has,  at  last,  reached  a  safe  harbor.  I  rejoice  in  your 
rescue  as  if  it  were  my  own.  Now  you  are  safe.  You  have 
reached  the  port,  and  in  the  quiet  happiness  of  your  own 
library  you  will  win  new  laurels.  Why,  then,  still  dispirited 
and  unhappy?  The  past,  with  its  sorrows  and  humiliations, 
is  forgotten,  the  present  is  satisfactory,  and  the  future  is  full 
of  hope  for  you." 

"  Full  of  misery  is  the  present,"  cried  Philip,  angrily,  "and 
filled  with  despair  I  glance  at  the  future.  You  do  not  see  it 
with  your  divine  eyes,  you  do  not  perceive  it,  poet  with  the 
sympathetic  soul.  You,  too,  thought  that  Philip  Moritz  had 
only  a  head  for  the  sciences,  and  forgot  that  he  had  a  heart 
to  love.  I  tell  you  that  he  has  a  warm,  affectionate  heart, 
torn  with  grief  and  all  the  tortures  of  jealousy;  that  disap- 
pointed happiness  maddens  him.  I  was  not  created  to  be 
happy,  and  my  whole  being  longs  for  happiness.  Oh !  I  would 
willingly  give  my  life  for  one  day  by  the  side  of  the  one  I 
love." 

"  Do  not  trifle,"  said  Goethe,  angrily.  "  He  who  has  striven 
and  struggled  as  you  have,  dare  not  offer,  for  any  woman, 
however  beautiful  and  seductive,  to  yield  his  life,  which  has 
been  defined  to  a  higher  aim  than  mere  success  in  love. 
Perhaps  "you  think  that  God  has  infused  a  ray  of  His  intelli- 
gence into  the  mind  of  man,  created  him  immortal,  and 
breathed  upon  him  with  His  world-creating  breath  only,  to 
make  him  happy,  and  find  that  happiness  in  love!  No!  my 
friend,  God  has  given  to  man  like  faculties  with  Himself,  and 
inspired  him,  that  he  might  be  a  worthy  representative  of 


120  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

Him  upon  the  earth ;  that  he  should  prove,  in  his  life,  that 
he  is  not  only  the  blossom,  but  the  fruit  also,  of  God's  cre- 
ation. Love  is  to  man  the  perfume  of  his  existence.  She 
may  intoxicate  him  for  a  while,  may  inspire  him  to  poetical 
effusions,  to  great  deeds,  even ;  but  he  should  hesitate  to  let 
her  become  his  mistress,  to  let  her  be  the  tyrant  of  his  exist- 
ence. If  she  would  enchain  him,  he  must  tear  himself  away, 
even  if  he  tear  out  his  own  heart.  Man  possesses  that  which 
is  more  ennobling  than  mere  feeling;  he  has  intellect — 
soul." 

"Ah!"  cried  Moritz,  "  it  is  easy  to  see  that  you  have  never 
loved  madly,  despairingly.  You  have  never  seen  the  woman 
whom  you  adore,  and  who  perhaps  reciprocates  your  passion, 
forced  to  marry  another." 

A  shadow  flitted  over  Goethe's  brow,  and  the  flashing  bril- 
liancy of  his  eyes  was  changed  to  gloomy  sadness.  Gently, 
but  quickly,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  Moritz's  shoulder,  saying: 
"  In  this  hour,  when  two  souls  are  revealed  to  each  other,  will 
I  acknowledge  to  you  that  which  I  have  never  spoken  of.  I, 
too,  love  a  woman,  who  loves  me,  and  yet  can  never  be  mine, 
for  she  is  married  to  another.  I  love  this  sweet  woman  as  I 
have  never  loved  a  mortal  being.  For  years  my  existence  has 
belonged  to  her,  she  has  been  the  centre  of  all  my  thoughts. 
It  would  seem  to  me  as  if  the  earth  were  without  a  sun,  heaven 
without  a  God,  if  she  should  vanish  from  life.  I  even  bless 
the  torture  which  her  prudery,  her  alternate  coldness  and 
friendliness  cause  me,  as  it  comes  from  her,  from  the  highest 
bliss  of  feeling.  This  passion  has  swept  through  my  soul,  as 
if  uniting  in  itself  all  my  youthful  loves,  till,  like  a  torrent, 
ever  renewing  itself,  ever  moving  onward,  it  has  become  the 
highway  of  my  future.  Upon  this  stream  floats  the  bark 
laden  with  all  my  happiness,  fame,  and  poetry.  The  palaces 
which  my  fancy  creates  rise  upon  its  shore.  Every  zephyr, 
however  slight,  makes  me  tremble.  Every  cloud  which  over- 
shadows the  brow  of  my  beloved,  sweeps  like  a  tempest  over 
my  own.  I  live  upon  her  smile.  A  kind  word  falling  from 


GOETHE  IN  BERLIN.  121 

her  lips  makes  me  happy  for  days;  and  when  she  turns 
away  from  me  with  coldness  and  indifference,  I  feel  like  one 
driven  about  as  Orestes  by  the  Furies." 

"  You  really  are  in  love  !  "  cried  Moritz.  "  I  will  take  back 
what  I  have  said.  You,  the  chosen  of  the  gods,  know  all  the 
human  heart  can  suffer,  even  unhappy  love." 

Almost  angry,  and  with  hesitation,  Goethe  answered  him: 
"  I  do  not  call  this  passion  of  mine  an  unhappy  one,  for  in 
the  very  perception  of  it  lies  happiness.  We  are  only  wretched 
when  we  lose  self-control.  To  this  point  Love  shall  never 
lead  me.  She  yields  me  the  highest  delight,  but  she  shall 
never  bring  me  to  self-destruction.  Grief  for  her  may,  like 
a  destructive  whirlwind,  crush  every  blossom  of  my  heart; 
but  she  shall  never  destroy  me.  The  man,  the  poet,  must 
stand  higher  than  the  lover;  for  where  the  latter  is  about  to 
yield  to  despair,  the  former  will  rise,  and,  with  the  defiance 
of  Prometheus,  challenge  the  gods  to  recognize  the  godlike 
similitude,  that  man  can  rise  superior  to  sorrow,  never  des- 
pairing, never  cursing  Fate  if  all  the  rosy  dreams  of  youth  are 
not  realities,  but  with  upturned  gaze  stride  over  the  waste 
places  of  life,  consoling  himself  with  the  thought  that  only 
magnanimous  souls  can  suffer  and  conquer  magnanimously. 
Vanquished  grief  brings  us  nearer  to  the  immortal,  and 
gradually  bears  us  from  this  vale  of  sorrow  up  to  the  brighter 
heights,  nearer  to  God — the  earth  with  her  petty  confusion 
lying  like  a  worthless  tool  at  our  feet!" 

"  It  is  heavenly  to  be  able  to  say  that,  and  divine  to  per- 
ceive it,"  cried  Moritz,  bursting  into  tears.  "  The  miseries  of 
life  chain  me  to  the  dust,  and  do  not  permit  me  to  mount  to 
the  heights  which  a  hero  like  Goethe  reaches  victorious.  It 
is  indeed  sublime  to  conquer  one's  self,  and  be  willing  to  re- 
sign the  happiness  which  flees  us.  But  see  how  weak  I  am — 
I  cannot  do  it !  I  can  never  give  up  the  one  I  love.  It  seems 
as  if  I  could  move  heaven  and  earth  to  conquer  at  last,  and 
that  I  must  die  if  I  do  not  succeed — die  like  Werther." 

Goethe's  eyes  flashed  with  anger,  and  with  heightened 
9 


122  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

color  he  exclaimed:  "  You  all  repeat  the  same  litany — do  not 
make  me  answerable  for  all  your  weaknesses,  and  blame  poor 
Werther  for  the  creations  of  your  own  imagination.  I,  who 
am  the  author  of  Werther,  am  free  from  this  abominable  sen- 
timentality. Why  cannot  others  be,  who  only  read  what  I 
have  conceived?  But  pardon  my  violence,"  he  continued, 
with  a  milder  voice  and  gentler  manner.  "  Never  did  an  au- 
thor create  a  work  which  brought  him  at  the  same  time  so 
great  fame  and  bitter  reproach  as  this  work  has  brought  to 
me.  'The  Sorrows  of  Young  Werther'  have  indeed  been 
transformed  into  the  sorrows  of  young  Goethe,  and  I  even 
fear  that  old  Goethe  will  have  to  suffer  for  it.  I  have  spoken 
to  you  as  a  friend  to  a  friend :  cherish  my  words,  take  them 
to  heart,  and  arise  from  the  dust;  shake  off  the  self -strewn 
ashes  from  your  head.  Enter  again  as  a  brave  champion  the 
combat  of  life — summon  to  your  aid  cunning,  power,  pru- 
dence, and  audacity,  to  conquer  your  love.  Whether  you 
succeed  or  not,  then  you  aim  at  the  greatest  of  battles — that 
of  mind  over  matter — then  remember  my  farewell  words. 
From  the  power  which  binds  all  men  he  frees  himself  who 
conquers  himself. — Farewell!  If  ever  you  need  the  encour- 
agement of  a  friend,  if  ever  a  sympathizing '  soul  is  necessary 
to  you,  come  to  Weimar;  sympathy  and  appreciation  shall 
never  fail  you  there. " 

"Oh!  I  will  surely  go,"  answered  Moritz,  deeply  moved, 
and  pressing  heartily  Goethe's  offered  hand. 

"  One  thing  more  I  have  to  say  to  you :  Live  much  with 
Nature;  accustom  yourself  to  regard  the  sparrow,  the  flower, 
or  the  stone,  as  worthy  of  your  attention  as  the  wonderful 
phoenix  or  the  monuments  of  the  ancients  with  their  illegible 
inscriptions.  To  walk  with  Nature  is  balsam  for  a  weary 
soul ;  gently  touched  by  her  soft  hands,  the  recovery  is  most 
rapid.  I  have  experienced  it,  and  do  experience  it  daily. 
Now,  once  more,  farewell ;  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word  f are- 
thee-well!  I  wish  that  I  could  help  you  in  other  ways  than 
by  mere  kind  words.  It  pains  me  indeed  that  I  can  render 


THE  INNER  AND  THE  MIDDLE  TEMPLE.  123 

you  no  other  aid  or  hope.  You  alone  can  do  what  none  other 
can  do  for  you. — Farewell!" 

He  turned,  and  motioning  to  Moritz  not  to  follow  him, 
almost  flew  down  the  stairs  into  the  street.  Drawing  a  long 
breath,  he  stood  leaning  against  the  door,  gazing  at  the 
crowd — at  the  busy  passers-by — some  merrily  chatting  with 
their  companions,  others  with  earnest  mien  and  in  busy  haste. 
No  one  seemed  to  care  for  him,  no  one  looked  at  him.  If  by 
chance  they  glanced  at  him,  Johann  Wolfgang  Goethe  was  of 
no  more  consequence  to  them  than  any  other  honest  citizen 
in  a  neighboring  doorway. 

Without  perhaps  acknowledging  it  to  himself,  Goethe  was 
a  little  vexed  that  no  one  observed  him ;  that  the  weather- 
maker  from  Weimar,  who  was  accustomed  to  be  greeted  there, 
and  everywhere,  indeed,  with  smiles  and  bows,  should  here 
in  Berlin  be  only  an  ordinary  mortal — a  stranger  among 
strangers.  "I  would  not  live  here,"  said  he,  as  he  walked 
slowly  down  the  street.  "  What  are  men  in  great  cities  but 
grains  of  sand,  now  blown  together  and  then  asunder?  There 
is  no  individuality,  one  is  only  a  unit  in  the  mass !  But  it  is 
well  occasionally  to  look  into  such  a  kaleidoscope,  and  admire 
the  play  of  colors,  which  I  have  done,  and  with  a  glad  heart 
I  will  now  fly  home  to  all  my  friends — to  you,  beloved  one — 
to  you,  Charlotte!" 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE   INNER   AND   THE   MIDDLE   TEMPLE. 

WILHELMINE  ENKE  had  passed  the  day  in  great  anxiety  and 
excitement,  and  not  even  the  distraction  of  her  new  posses- 
sion had  been  able  to  calm  the  beating  of  her  heart  or  allay 
her  fears.  Prince  Frederick  William  had  arrived  early  in  the 
morning,  to  bid  her  farewell,  as  he  was  to  march  in  the  course 
of  the  day  with  his  regiments  from  Potsdam.  With  the 
tenderest  assurances  of  love  he  took  leave  of  Wilhelmine,  and 


124  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

with  tears  kissed  his  two  children,  pressing  them  to  his  heart. 
As  He  was  about  to  enter  his  carriage  he  returned  to  the  house 
to  embrace  his  weeping  mistress,  and  reassure  her  of  his  fidel- 
ity, and  make  her  promise  him  again  and  again  that  she 
would  remain  true  to  him,  and  never  love  another. 

It  was  not  alone  the  farewell  to  her  beloved  prince  which 
caused  Wilhelmine  such  anxiety  and  made  her  so  restless. 
Like  a  dark  cloud  the  remembrance  of  Cagliostro's  mysterious 
appearance  arose  in  her  mind,  overshadowing  her  every  hour 
more  and  more,  filling  her  soul  with  terror.  In  vain  did  she 
seek  refuge  near  her  children,  trying  to  cheer  and  forget  her- 
self in  their  innocent  amusement — one  moment  running 
about  the  garden  with  them,  then  returning  to  the  house  to 
reexamine  it.  Her  thoughts  would  revert  to  Cagliostro,  and 
the  solemnities  which  were  to  take  place  at  her  house  that 
night.  The  thought  terrified  her  that  at  nightfall  she  was 
obliged  to  send  away  all  her  servants,  and  not  even  be  per- 
mitted to  lock  herself  in  the  lonely,  deserted  house.  For  the 
great  magician  had  commanded  her  to  let  the  doors  of  her 
house  stand  open ;  he  would  place  sentinels  at  every  entrance, 
and  none  but  the  elect  would  be  allowed  to  enter.  Wilhel- 
mine  had  not  the  courage  to  resist  this  command.  As  even- 
ing approached,  she  sent  the  cook,  with  other  servants,  to  her 
apartment  at  Berlin,  ordering  them  to  pack  her  furniture 
and  other  effects,  and  send  them  by  a  hired  wagon  to  Char- 
lottenburg  the  following  morning.  An  hour  previous  to  this 
she  had  sent  the  nurse  and  two  children  to  Potsdam  with  a 
similar  commission,  ordering  them  ta  return  early  the  next 
day.  Alone  she  now  awaited  with  feverish  anxiety  Caglios- 
tro's appearance.  Again  and  again  she  wandered  through  the 
silent,  deserted  rooms  frightened  at  the  sound  of  her  own 
footsteps,  and  peering  into  each  room  as  if  an  assassin  or 
robber  were  lurking  there.  She  had  many  enemies — many 
there  were  who  cursed  her,  and,  alas!  none  loved  her — she 
was  friendless,  save  the  prince,  who  was  far  away.  The  tears 
which  the  princess  had  shed  on  her  acceurt  weighed  like  a 


THE  INNER  AND  THE  MIDDLE  TEMPLE.  125 

heavy  burden  upon  her  heart,  burning  into  her  very  soul  in 
this  hour  of  lonely,  sad  retrospection.  She  tried  in  vain  to 
excuse  herself,  in  the  fact  that  she  had  loved  the  prince  be- 
fore his  marriage;  that  she  had  sacrificed  herself  to  him 
through  affection,  and  that  she  was  not  entitled  to  become 
his  wife,  as  she  was  not  born  under  the  canopy  of  a  throne. 

From  the  depths  of  her  conscience  there  again  rose  the 
tearful,  sad  face  of  the  princess,  accusing  her  as  an  adulteress 
— as  a  sinner  before  God  and  man!  Terrified,  she  cried:  "  I 
have  truly  loved  him,  and  I  do  still  love  him ;  this  is  my  ex- 
cuse and  my  justification.  She  is  not  to  be  pitied  who  can 
walk  openly  by  the  side  of  her  husband,  enjoying  the  respect 
and  sympathy  of  all  to  whom  homage  is  paid,  and  who,  one 
day,  will  be  queen !  I  am  the  only  one,  i  alone !  I  stand  in 
the  shade,  despised  and  scorned,  avoided  and  shunned  by 
every  one  i  Those  who  recognize  me,  do  so  with  a  mocking 
smile,  and  when  I  pass  by  they  contemptuously  shrug  their 
shoulders  and  say  to  one  another,  'That  was  Enke,  the  mis- 
tress of  the  Prince  of  Prussia!'  All  this  shall  be  changed," 
she  cried  aloud ;  "  I  will  not  always  be  despised  and  degraded ! 
I  will  be  revenged  on  my  crushed  and  scorned  youth !  I  will 
have  rank  and  name,  honor  and  position,  that  I  will — yes, 
that  I  will,  indeed !" 

Wilhelmine  wandered  on  through  the  silent  rooms,  all  bril- 
liantly illuminated,  a  precaution  she  had  taken  before  dis- 
missing her  servants.  The  bright  light  was  a  consolation  to 
her,  and,  at  least,  she  could  not  be  attacked  by  surprise,  but 
see  her  enemy,  and  escape.  "I  was  a  fool,"  she  murmured, 
"  oo  grant  Cagliostro  this  reception  to-night.  I  know  that  ho 
is  a  charlatan !  There  are  no  prophets  or  wizards !  Yet,  well 
I  remember,  though  a  stranger  to  me,  in  Paris,  how  truth- 
fully he  brought  before  me  my  past  life;  with  what  marvel- 
lous exactness  he  revealed  to  me  secrets  known  only  to  my 
Maker  and  myself.  Cagliostro  must  be  a  wizard,  then,  or  a 
prophet ;  he  has  wonderful  power  over  me  also,  and  reads  my 
most  secret  thoughts.  He  will  assist  me  to  rise  from  mf 


126  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE   NEW  ERA. 

shame  and  degradation  to  an  honored  position.  I  shall  be- 
come a  rich  and  influential  woman !  I  will  confide  in  him, 
never  doubting  him — for  he  is  my  master  and  savior !  Away 
with  fear!  He  has  said  that  the  house  should  be  guarded, 
and  it  will  be!  Onward  then,  Wilhelmine,  without  fear!" 

She  hastened  to  the  large  drawing-room,  in  order  to  see  the 
effect  of  the  numerous  wax-lights  in  the  superb  chandeliers  of 
rock  crystal.  The  great  folding-doors  resisted  all  her  efforts 
to  open  them.  "Who  is  there?"  cried  a  loud,  threatening 
voice.  Trembling  and  with  beating  heart  Wilhelmine  leaned 
against  the  door,  giddy  with  fear,  when  a  second  demand, 
"  Who  is  there?  The  watchword!  No  one  can  pass  without 
the  countersign!"  roused  her,  and  she  stole  back  on  tiptoe  to 
her  room.  " He  has  kept  his  word,  the  doors  are  guarded!" 
she  whispered.  "  I  will  go  and  await  him  in  my  sitting- 
room."  She  stepped  quickly  forward,  when  suddenly  she 
thought  she  heard  footsteps  stealing  behind  her;  turning,  she 
beheld  two  men  wrapped  in  black  cloaks,  with  black  masks, 
stealthily  creeping  after  her.  Wilhelmine  shrieked  with  ter- 
ror, tore  open  the  door,  rushed  across  the  next  room  into  her 
own  boudoir.  As  she  entered  a  glance  revealed  to  her  that 
the  two  masks  approached  nearer  and  nearer.  She  bolted  the 
door  quickly,  sinking  to  the  floor  with  fright  and  exhaustion. 
"What  are  they  going  to  do?  Will  they  force  open  the  door 
and  murder  me?  How  foolish,  how  fearfully  foolish  to  have 
sent  away  all  my  servants.  Now  I  understand  it:  Cagliostro 
is  not  only  an  impostor — a  charlatan,  but  he  is  a  thief  and  an 
assassin.  I  have  been  caught  in  the  trap  set  for  me,  like  a 
credulous  fool !  He  and  his  associates  will  rob  me  and  plun- 
der my  beautiful  villa,  but  just  given  to  me,  and,  when  they 
have  secured  all,  murder  me  to  escape  betrayal."  With  deep 
contrition,  weeping  and  trembling,  Wilhelmine  accused  her- 
self of  her  credulity  and  folly.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life 
she  was  dismayed  and  cowardly,  for  it  was  the  first  time  that 
she  had  had  to  tremble  for  her  possessions.  It  was  something 
so  new,  so  unaccustomed  to  her  to  possess  any  thing,  that  it 


THE  INNER  AND  THE  MIDDLE  TEMPLE.  127 

made  her  anxious,  and  she  feared,  as  in  the  fairy  tale,  that  it 
would  dissolve  into  nothing.  By  degrees  her  presence  of  mind 
and  equanimity  were  restored.  The  stillness  was  unbroken — 
and  no  one  forced  the  door,  to  murder  the  mistress  of  this 
costly  possession.  Gathering  courage,  she  rose  softly  and 
stole  to  the  window.  The  moon  shone  brightly  and  clearly. 
The  house  stood  sideways  to  the  street,  and  separated  from 
it,  first  by  thick  shrubbery,  and  then  a  trellised  lawn.  Who- 
ever would  enter,  directly  turned  into  a  path  leading  from 
the  street  into  the  shrubbery.  Just  upon  this  walk,  Wilhel- 
mine  perceived  masked  men  approaching,  one  by  one,  as  in  a 
procession — slowly,  silently  moving  on,  until  they  neared  the 
gate  of  the  trellised  square,  where  two  tall,  dark  forms  were 
stationed  to  demand  the  countersign,  which  being  given,  they 
passed  over  the  lawn  into  the  house. 

"  I  will  take  courage ;  he  has  told  me  the  truth,  the  house 
is  well  guarded,"  murmured  Wilhelmine.  "None  but  the 
summoned  can  enter ;  I  belong  to  the  number,  and  when  it  is 
time  Cagliostro  will  come  and  fetch  me.  Until  then,  let  me 
await  quietly  the  result,"  said  she,  as  she  stretched  herself 
comfortably  upon  the  sofa,  laughing  at  her  former  cowardice 
and  terror.  "  No  one  can  enter  this  room  unless  I  open  the 
door,  and  fortunately  there  is  but  one  exit.  The  wizard  him- 
self could  not  gain  admittance  unless  the  walls  should  open  or 
the  bolt  drive  back  for  him.  Hark !  it  strikes  eleven,  one 
tedious  hour  longer  to  wait.  I  must  try  to  rest  a  little." 
She  laid  her  head  upon  the  cushion,  closing  her  eyes.  The 
calm  and  the  quiet  were  refreshing  after  the  excitement  of  the 
day.  Gradually  her  thoughts  became  confused — dim  pictures 
floated  past  her  mental  vision,  her  breathing  became  shorter, 
and  she  slept.  The  stillness  was  unbroken,  save  the  clock 
striking  the  quarters  of  every  hour.  Scarcely  had  the  last 
quarter  to  midnight  sounded,  when  the  window  was  softly 
opened,  and  a  dark  form  descended  into  the  room.  He  lis- 
tened a  moment,  looking  at  the  sleeping  one,  who  moved  not; 
then  extinguished  the  light,  creeping  toward  the  door.  Wil- 


128  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

helmine  slept  on.  Suddenly  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  sunbeams 
blinded  her,  and  she  started  up  from  a  profound  sleep.  It 
was  indeed  no  dream.  A  white  form  stood  before  her  of 
dazzling  brilliancy,  as  if  formed  of  sun-rays. 

"Bise  and  follow  me!"  cried  a  commanding  voice.  "The 
Great  Kophta  commands  you.  Mask  yourself,  and,  as  your 
life  is  dear  to  you,  do  not  raise  it  for  one  instant!"  Wilhel- 
mine  took  the  mask,  upon  which  flickered  a  little  blue  flame, 
and  held  it  close  to  her  face.  "  Pray  in  spirit,  then  follow 
me."  Wilhelmine  followed  without  opposition  the  bright 
form  which  moved  before  her  through  the  dark  rooms.  She 
felt  as  if  under  the  influence  of  a  charm ;  her  heart  beat 
violently,  her  feet  trembled,  but  still  she  felt  no  more  waver- 
ing or  fear ;  a  joyous  confidence  filled  her  whole  being.  With 
her  eyes  bent  upon  the  moving  form  of  light,  she  went  onward 
in  the  obscurity,  and  entered  the  great  drawing-room,  where 
profound  darkness  and  silence  reigned.  A  slight  murmur, 
as  of  those  in  prayer,  fell  on  her  ear,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
numberless  black  shadows  were  moving  about.  "  Kneel  and 
pray,"  whispered  a  voice  near  her.  Her  conductor  had  dis- 
appeared, and  the  gloom  of  night  surrounded  her.  Wilhel- 
mine knelt  as  she  was  bidden,  but  she  could  not  pray; 
breathless  expectation  and  eager  curiosity  banished  all  de- 
votion and  composure.  Occasionally  was  heard,  amid  the 
silence  and  darkness,  a  deep  sigh,  a  suppressed  groan,  or  a 
shriek,  which  died  away  in  the  murmuring  of  prayer.  Sud- 
denly a  strange  music  broke  the  stillness — sharp,  piercing 
tones,  resonant  as  bells,  and  increasing  in  power,  sometimes 
as  rich  and  full  as  the  peals  of  an  organ,  then  gentle  and  soft 
as  the  murmuring  wind,  or  a  sorrow-laden  sigh.  Then, 
human  voices  joined  the  music,  swelling  it  to  a  wonderful  and 
harmonious  choir — to  an  inspired  song  of  aspiration,  of  fer- 
vent expectation,  and  imploring  the  coming  of  him  who  would 
bring  glory  and  peace,  filling  the  hearts  of  believers  with  god- 
liness. The  chorus  of  the  Invisibles  had  not  ceased,  when  a 
strange  blue  light  began  to  glimmer  at  the  farther  end  of  the 


THE  INNER  AND  THE  MIDDLE  TEMPLE.  129 

room ;  then  it  shot  like  a  flash  through  the  dark  space.  As 
their  dazzled  eyes  were  again  raised,  they  saw  in  a  kind  of 
halo,  in  the  midst  of  golden  clouds,  a  tall,  dazzling  figure,  in 
a  long,  flowing  robe,  sparkling  with  silver.  The  lovely  bust, 
the  beautiful  arms  and  shoulders,  were  covered  with  a  trans- 
parent golden  tissue,  over  which  fell  the  long,  curly  hair  to 
the  waist.  A  glittering  band,  sparkling  like  stars,  was  wound 
through  the  hair,  which  surrounded  a  feminine  face  of  sur- 
passing beauty.  Perpetual  youth  glowed  upon  her  full,  rosy 
cheeks;  bright  intelligence  beamed  from  the  clear,  lofty 
brow ;  peace,  joy,  and  happiness,  were  revealed  in  the  smile 
of  the  red  lips ;  love  and  passion  flashed  from  the  large,  bril- 
liant eyes.  The  choir  of  the  Invisibles  now  sang  in  jubilant 
tones:  "The  eternal  Virgin,  the  everlasting,  holy,  and  pure 
being,  greets  the  erring,  blesses  those  that  seek,  causing  them 
to  find,  and  partake  with  joy." 

The  heavenly  woman  raised  her  lovely  arms,  extending 
them  as  if  for  a  tender  embrace.  A  captivating  smile  lighted 
up  her  features ;  a  fiery  glance  from  her  beautiful  eyes  seemed 
to  greet  every  one,  separately,  to  announce  to  them  joy  and 
hope.  While  they  regarded  her  entranced  with  delight,  the 
golden  cloud  grew  denser,  and  covered  the  virgin  with  her 
luminous  veil.  It  then  gradually  disappeared,  with  the  golden 
splendor.  The  chorus  of  the  Invisibles  ceased,  and  the  music 
died  away  in  gentle  murmurs.  Upon  the  spot  where  the 
beaming  apparition  was  visible,  there  now  stood  a  tall  priest, 
in  a  long,  flowing  black  robe ;  a  pale- blue  light  surrounded 
him,  and  rendered  the  dark  outline  distinctly  visible  by  the 
clear  background.  Snow-white  hair  and  a  black  mask  made 
him  unrecognizable  to  every  one. 

Extending  his  arms,  as  if  blessing  them,  the  masked  one 
cried :  "  My  beloved,  the  unknown  fathers  of  our  Holy  Order 
of  Rosicrucians  send  me  to  you,  and  command  me  to  salute 
you  with  the  greeting  of  life.  I  am  to  announce  to  you  that 
the  time  of  revelation  approaches,  and  that  the  sublime  mys- 
teries of  earth  and  Nature  will  soon  be  revealed  to  you.  As 


130  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

the  rose  is  unfolded  in  her  glowing  red,  which  has  so  long 
slept  in  her  lap  of  green  leaves,  you  represent  the  green  eaves, 
and  Nature  is  the  rose.  She  will  disclose  herself  to  you  with 
all  her  secrets.  In  her  calyx  you  will  find  the  elixir  of  life 
and  the  secret  of  gold,  if  you  walk  in  the  path  of  duty ;  if  you 
exercise  unconditional  obedience  to  the  Invisible  Fathers;  if 
you  submit  yourselves  in  blind  confidence  to  their  wisdom; 
if  you  swear  to  abstain  from  every  self-inquiry,  and  to  dis- 
trust your  own  understanding."  * 

"  We  swear  it!"  cried  solemn  voices  on  all  sides. 

"  Swear,  blindly,  silent  obedience  to  all  that  the  Invisible 
Fathers  shall  announce  to  you  through  their  directors,  or 
shall  order  you  under  the  holy  sign  of  the  Kosicrucians  by 
word  or  writing." 

"  We  swear  it!"  again  resounded  in  solemn  chorus. 

"  Shame,  disgrace,  perdition,  and  destruction,  be  your 
curse,"  thundered  the  priest,  "if  you  deviate  in  thought  even 
from  your  oath ;  if  you  seek  to  ponder  and  reflect ;  if  you 
measure  by  your  own  limited  reason  the  dispositions  and  oper- 
ations of  the  sublime  fathers,  to  whom  Nature  has  revealed 
herself,  and  to  whom  all  the  secrets  of  heaven  and  earth  are 
disclosed.  Eternal  destruction,  and  all  the  tortures  of  hell 
and  purgatory,  be  the  portion  of  the  doubting!  Damned 
and  proscribed  be  the  traitor  to  the  holy  order!  Listen,  ye 
spirits  of  the  deep,  and  ye  spirits  of  darkness,  withdraw  from 
here  in  terror,  ere  the  anger  of  the  Invisible  Fathers  fall  upon 
you  like  destroying  lightning!  Open,  ye  doors,  that  the 
wicked  may  flee,  and  only  the  good  remain!" 

With  a  wave  of  the  hand  the  great  folding-doors  now 
opened,  and  a  flood  of  light  from  the  adjoining  apartment  re- 
vealed the  drawing-room  to  be  filled  with  the  dark  forms  of 
men  enveloped  in  black  cloaks,  hoods  drawn  over  the  heads, 
and  black  masks  covering  the  faces — all  kneeling  close  to- 
gether and  exactly  resembling  one  another.  No  one  moved, 

*  So  run  the  very  words  in  the  laws  of  the  Rosi  crucians.— See  "  New  General  Ger- 
man Library,11  vol.  Ivi.,  p.  10. 


THE  INNER  AND  THE  MIDDLE  TEMPLE.  131 

no  one  withdrew  at  the  exhortation  of  the  priest.  The  doors 
closed  again,  darkness  reigning.  The  priest  was  no  longer 
visible,  though  continuing  to  speak :  "  Only  the  good  and 
obedient  are  now  assembled  here,  and  to  them  I  announce 
that  life  is  to  us,  and  death  awaits  beyond  the  door  to  seize 
the  traitor  who  would  disclose  the  holy  secrets  of  the  order. 
Be  faithful,  my  brothers,  and  never  forget  that  there  is  no 
place  on  the  earth  where  the  traitor  is  secure  from  the  aveng- 
ing sword  of  the  Invisible  Fathers.  None  but  the  good  and 
obedient  being  here  assembled,  I  now  announce  to  you  that 
the  time  of  revelation  approaches,  and  that  it  will  come  when 
you  are  all  zealously  endeavoring  to  extend  the  holy  order, 
and  augment  the  number  of  brothers.  For  the  extension  of 
the  order  is  nothing  less  than  universal  happiness.  It  ema- 
nates alone  from  the  Invisible  Fathers,  who  link  heaven  to 
earth,  and  who  will  open  again  the  lost  way  to  Paradise. 
The  supreme  chiefs  of  our  holy  order  are  the  rulers  of  all 
Nature,  reposing  in  God  the  Father.*  They  are  the  favorites 
of  God,  whom  the  Trinity  thinks  worthy  of  his  highest  con- 
fidence and  revelation.  If  you  will  take  part  in  the  revela- 
tions of  God,  and  witness  the  disclosing  of  the  hidden  treas- 
ures of  Nature,  swear  that  you  will  be  obedient  to  the  holy 
order,  and  that  you  will  strive  to  gain  new  members." 

"We  swear  it,"  resounded  in  an  inspired  chorus  through 
the  room.  "  We  swear  unconditional  obedience  to  the  Invis- 
ible Fathers.  We  swear  to  strive  with  all  our  means  for  the 
extension  of  the  holy  order." 

"Unbelief,  free-thinking,  and  self-knowledge,  are  of  the 
the  devil,  who  steals  abroad,  to  turn  men  from  God.  The 
pride  of  reason  seeks  to  misguide  men,  and  lead  them  away 
from  God  and  the  secrets  of  Nature.  The  devil  has  chosen 
his  disciples,  who  teach  sinful  knowledge  and  arrogant  free- 
thinking,  and  who  are  united  in  Berlin  in  the  Order  of  the 
Illuminati.  The  Invisible  Fathers  command  you  to  fight  this' 

*  The  wording  of  the  laws  of  the  Order  of  the  Rosicrucians.— See  "  New  General 
German  Library,"  vol.  Ivi.,  p.  10. 


132  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

shameful  order  in  word,  deed,  and  writing.  If  any  of  you 
are  acquainted  with  one  of  the  members,  you  shall  regard  him 
as  your  most  deadly  enemy,  and  shall  hate  and  pursue 
him  as  you  hate  sin  and  as  you  pursue  crime.  You 
shall  flee  his  intercourse  as  you  would  that  of  the  devil, 
otherwise  you  will  be  damned,  and  the  Invisible  Fathers  never 
will  forgive  you,  and  the  secrets  of  Nature  will  be  withheld 
from  you.  Swear  therefore  hate,  persecution,  and  eternal 
enmity,  to  the  Order  of  the  Illuminati.  This  I  command 
you  in  the  name  of  the  Invisible  Fathers." 

"We  swear  it!  We  swear  hate,  persecution,  and  eternal 
enmity,  to  the  Order  of  the  Illuminati!" 

"  Every  one  who  belongs  to  the  order  is  damned  and  cursed ; 
and  if  it  were  your  brother  or  your  father,  so  shall  you  curse 
and  damn  him!" 

"We  swear  it!" 

"  Then  I  bring  you  the  blessing  of  the  Invisible  rulers  and 
fathers,  who  announce  to  you,  through  me,  that  every  lost 
one  which  you  gain  for  the  Order  of  the  Rosicrucians,  and 
consequently  lead  back  to  God  and  Nature,  is  a  step  toward 
entering  the  holy  sanctuary  of  revelation,  where  the  elixir  of 
life  and  the  tincture  of  gold  awaits  you.  Every  cursed  mem- 
ber of  the  Illuminati  becomes  one  of  the  blessed  when  you 
lead  him  from  the  path  of  vice  in  penitence  and  contrition, 
and  gain  him  to  the  Order  of  the  Rosicrucians;  and  he  who 
can  prove  that  he  has  gained  twelve  new  members  for  our  holy 
order  mounts  a  round  higher  in  the  ladder  of  knowledge,  and 
rises  to  a  new  degree.  At  the  sixth  grade  he  passes  from  the 
Inner  to  the  Middle  Temple,  where  all  the  secrets  of  the  uni- 
verse and  of  Nature  are  disclosed.  Be  mindful  of  this,  and 
recruit.  Until  we  meet  again,  let  the  watchword  be,  'Curses 
and  persecution  for  the  devil's  offspring,  the  Illuminati!' ' 

"Curses  and  persecution  for  the  devil's  offspring,  the 
Illuminati,  we  swear!" 

"  Now  depart !  Pay  your  tribute  at  the  door,  which  yon 
owe,  and  receive  in  return  the  new  sign  of  the  order,  which 


THE  INNER  AND  THE  MIDDLE  TEMPLE.  133 

will  serve  to  make  the  brothers  known  to  each  other.  Only 
the  directors  and  the  members  of  the  sixth  grade  shall  knock 
again  at  this  door  after  paying  tribute,  and,  receiving  the 
new  word  of  life,  the  guard  will  let  them  enter.  Depart!  I 
dismiss  you  in  the  name  of  the  Holy  Father  and  the  Trinity!" 

"  Take  this  cloak,  and  cover  yourself,  that  no  one  can  rec- 
ognize you,"  whispered  a  person  near  "Wilhelmine,  and  threw 
a  soft  covering  over  her.  "  Will  you  now  depart,  or  seek 
further  in  the  way  of  knowledge?" 

"I  will  seek  further,"  answered  Wilhelmine,  firmly. 

"  You  wish  to  enter  the  sixth  grade,  and  learn  the  secrets 
of  Nature?" 

"I  do!" 

"  Then  I  will  give  you  the  watchword  of  the  order.  But 
woe  unto  you  if  you  reveal  it !  Swear  that  you  will  never  be- 
tray it!" 

"I  swear  it!" 

"Then,  listen!" 

Wilhelmine  felt  a  hot  breath  upon  her  cheek,  and  a  voice 
whispered  in  her  ear  the  significant  words:  "Now  depart; 
pay  your  tribute,  you  cannot  tarry  here.  Go,  and  return 
with  the  chosen!" 

A  hand  seized  her  arm  and  conducted  her  to  the  door. 
Almost  blinded  by  the  bright  light,  she  entered  the  adjoining 
apartment,  where  it  seemed  as  if  she  saw  through  a  veil 
muffled  figures  go  forward  to  the  centre,  and  deposit  money 
in  a  marble  basin  which  stood  upon  a  kind  of  altar;  naphtha 
burned  in  silver  basins  upon  each  end  of  it,  and  a  muffled 
figure  stood  near. 

Wilhelmine  advanced  to  the  altar,  and  with  quick  decision 
drew  a  diamond  ring  from  her  finger,  and  begged  permission 
to  deposit  it  instead  of  money. 

The  muffled  figure  bowed,  and  handed  to  her  the  new 
watchword — a  picture  of  a  Madonna,  with  the  sign  of  the 
Eosicrucians  underneath,  *J«.  Then  she  returned,  and  awaited 
at  the  door,  with  a  little  gathering,  which  must  consequently 


134  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW   ERA. 

belong  to  the  sixth  grade.  Gradually  the  others  had  with- 
drawn ;  the  naphtha-flames  upon  the  altar  were  extinguished, 
and  the  wax-lights  of  the  centre  lustres  had  grown  dim,  and 
gradually  extinguished  themselves.  Soon  the  doors  were 
opened,  and  a  bright  light,  as  of  the  sun's  rays,  filled  the  hall. 
Three  blasts  of  trumpets  sounded,  and  a  choir  of  immortal 
voices  sang,  "Enter,  ye  blessed  ones!  Enter,  ye  elect!" 

They  entered,  whispering  the  sign  to  the  guards,  who  stood 
with  drawn  swords,  and  passed  on  to  the  throne  upon  which 
stood  a  couch,  surrounded  with  blooming  flowers  and  covered 
with  a  cloud  of  silvery  gauze.  They  soon  discovered  a  secret 
something  was  hidden  under  the  cloud,  though  they  knew  not 
whether  it  were  child,  woman,  or  man.  They  knelt  upon  the 
lower  step  of  the  throne,  with  folded  hands  and  bowed  heads, 
praying  in  a  low  voice.  A  solemn  stillness  reigned,  the- pray- 
ers died  away  on  the  lips,  and  the  hearts  scarcely  beat  for 
anxiety  and  expectation.  Suddenly  a  voice,  which  seemed  to 
come  from  the  silver  cloud,  so  distant  and  lofty,  and  rolling 
like  majestic  thunder,  cried,  "He  comes,  the  chosen  one.' 
The  Great  Kophta  comes!" 

The  folding-doors  flew  open,  and  the  Great  Kophta  entered. 
Wilhelmine  recognized  in  the  majestic  figure,  enveloped  in  a 
flowing,  silver-embroidered  satin  robe,  with  a  band  of  bril- 
liants around  his  brow,  the  handsome  face  of  Cagliostro, 
beaming  as  if  in  an  ecstasy.  He  saluted  the  brothers  with  a 
gentle  voice,  and  bade  them  approach  and  touch  his  hand. 
As  Wilhelmine  did  so,  a  thrill  ran  through  her  whole  being, 
and  she  sank  overpowered  at  his  feet.  He  bowed  and  breathed 
upon  her.  "  You  are  chosen,  ye  heavenly  brothers,"  he  said, 
in  a  sweet,  melodious  voice ;  "  the  secrets  of  heaven  and  earth 
are  disclosed  to  you.  I  receive  you  in  the  Holy  Order  of  the 
Favorites  of  God,  which  I  founded  with  Enoch  and  Elias 
when  we  dwelt  in  the  promised  land.  From  them  I  received 
the  Word  of  Life,  and  they  sent  me  to  the  ancient  sages  of 
Egypt,  who  revealed  to  me  in  the  pyramids  the  secret  sciences 
which  subject  the  earth  and  all  her  treasures  to  our  command. 


THE  INNER  AND  THE  MIDDLE  TEMPLE.  135 

He  who  devotes  himself  to  me  with  fidelity  will  receive  eternal 
life  and  the  secret  of  immortality." 

"We  believe  in  thee,  blessed  one  of  God,"  murmured  the 
kneeling  ones;  "we  know  that  we  receive  life  and  salvation 
from  thee.  Bend  to  us,  and  give  us  of  the  breath  of  immor- 
tality!" 

He  bowed  and  breathed  upon  them,  and  they  broke  forth 
in  words  of  thankfulness  and  delight. 

Only  Wilhelmine  kept  silent;  she  only  failed  to  feel  the 
magical  influence,  and  he  bowed  again  to  her,  fixing  his 
great  fiery  eyes  upon  her.  "  Thou  art  called,  thou  art 
chosen,"  he  said.  "Mount  to  the  tabernacle,  and  lift  the 
veil." 

She  did  as  commanded,  and  beheld  the  figure  of  a  wonder- 
ful woman  stretched  upon  the  couch  as  in  deep  sleep,  clothed 
in  transparent  robes.  "  Lay  your  hand  upon  her  brow,  and 
direct  in  your  thoughts  a  question  to  the  prophetess  of  the 
order,  and  she  will  answer  you !"  Upon  the  lofty,  white  brow 
of  the  sleeping  one,  she  laid  her  hand ;  immediately  a  smile 
flitted  over  her  beautiful  face,  and  she  nodded.  "Yes,"  said 
she,  "you  must  believe.  You  dare  not  doubt.  He  is  the 
elect,  the  holy  Magus!"  Wilhelmine  trembled,  for  the  an- 
swer was  suited  to  the  question.  "  Demand  a  second  question 
of  the  prophetess,"  commanded  Cagliostro.  Again  she  laid 
her  hand  upon  the  brow  of  the  sleeping  one,  and  again  she 
smiled  and  nodded  with  her  beautiful  head.  "  Fear  not,"  sha 
replied ;  "  he  will  always  love  you,  and  will  never  reject  you, 
only  you  must  not  lead  him  astray  from  the  right  course — but 
guide  him  to  the  temple  of  faith  and  knowledge.  When  you 
cease  to  do  it,  you  are  lost.  Shame  upon  earth  and  damnation 
will  be  your  portion. "  The  answer  was  exact — for  Wilhelmine 
had  prayed  to  know  if  the  prince  would  always  love  and  never 
reject  her.  "Still  a  third  question,"  cried  Cagliostro.  In 
silence  Wilhelmine  asked,  and  the  prophetess  answered  aloud : 
"  You  will  be  countess,  you  will  become  a  princess,  you  will 
possess  millions,  you  will  have  the  whole  world  at  your  feet, 


136  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

if  you  call  to  your  aid  the  Invisible  Fathers,  and  implore  the 
power  and  miraculous  blessing  of  the  Great  Kophta."  Wil- 
helmine,  deeply  moved,  sank  overpowered  upon  her  knees, 
and  cried  aloud :  "  I  call  upon  the  Invisible  Fathers  for  aid 
and  assistance ;  I  implore  the  power  and  miraculous  blessing 
of  the  Great  Kophta."  Suddenly,  amid  the  rolling  of  thun- 
der and  intense  darkness,  Wilhelmine  felt  herself  lifted  up — 
borne  away,  as  loud  prayers  were  uttered  around  her.  Then 
she  felt  herself  lowered  again  and  with  the  freedom  of  mo- 
tion. "  Fly !  fly  from  the  revenge  of  the  immortals,  if  you 
still  doubt,  still  mistrust!"  cried  a  fearful  voice  above  her. 
"Behold  how  the  immortals  revenge  themselves."  Imme- 
diately a  light  began  to  dawn  before  her,  a  form  rose  from  the 
darkness  like  her  own.  She  beheld  herself  kneeling,  implor- 
ing, her  face  deluged  with  tears,  and  before  her  a  tall,  erect, 
muffled  figure,  with  a  glittering  sword  in  his  uplifted  arm, 
which  sank  gradually  lower  and  lower  until  it  pierced  her 
bosom  and  the  blood  gushed  forth.  Wilhelmine  shrieked  and 
fainted.  She  witnessed  no  more  miracles,  heard  no  more 
prophecies  and  revelations  which  the  magi  made  to  the  elect. 
She  beheld  not  the  appearance  of  the  blessed  spirits,  which 
at  the  importunity  of  the  brothers  flitted  through  the  apart- 
ment. She  heard  not  Cagliostro  take  leave  of  Baron  von 
Bischofswerder,  when  all  had  withdrawn,  saying,  "  I  have  now 
exalted  you  to  be  chief  director  of  the  holy  order.  You  will 
at  once  receive  orders  from  the  Invisible  Fathers,  announced 
to  you  in  writing,  and  you  will  follow  them  faithfully." 

"  I  will  follow  them  faithfully,"  humbly  answered  Bischofs- 
werder. 

"  You  will  be  rewarded  by  the  knowledge  of  life  and  of 
money;  you  shall  discover  the  philosopher's  stone,  and  the 
secret  of  gold  shall  be  revealed  to  you,  when  you  perform  what 
the  Invisible  Fathers  demand." 

"I  will  do  every  thing,"  cried  Bischofswerder,  fervently; 
"only  make  known  to  me  their  commands." 

"  They  desire,  at  the  present,  that  you  seek  to  be  the  con- 


THE  JESUIT  GENERAL.  137 

fidant  of  the  Prince  of  Prussia.  Gain  his  affection,  then  gov- 
ern him,  making  yourself  indispensable  to  him.  Surround 
him  with  servants  and  confidants  that  you  can  rely  upon. 
Inspire  him  with  devotion  to  the  holy  order.  Become,  now, 
the  friend  of  the  prince,  that  you  may,  one  day,  rule  the 
king.  You  are  the  chief  of  the  order  in  Prussia;  the  more 
members  you  gain  the  more  secrets  will  be  revealed  to  you. 
The  holy  fathers  send  me  afar,  but  I  shall  return :  if  you  have 
been  active  and  faithful,  I  will  make  known  to  you  a  great 
secret,  and  bring  you  the  elixir  of  life." 

"When  will  you  return,  master?"  asked  Bischofswerder, 
enthusi  astically . 

Cagliostro  smiled.  "Before  the  crown  prince  of  Prussia 
becomes  king.  Ask  no  further.  Be  faithful!" 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE    JESUIT    GENERAL. 

No  one  remained  in  the  drawing-room  but  Cagliostro  and 
the  beautiful  woman  who  still  lay  quietly  on  the  couch,  upon 
the  throne.  Cagliostro  approached  her,  and,  raising  the  veil, 
regarded  her  a  moment,  with  an  expression  of  the  most  pas- 
sionate tenderness:  "We  are  alone,  Lorenza,"  said  he.  She 
opened  her  great  eyes,  and  looked  around  the  dimly-lighted 
room;  then,  fixing  them  upon  Cagliostro,  who  stood  before 
her  in  his  brilliant  costume  of  magician,  she  burst  into  a 
merry  laugh,  so  loud  and  so  irresistible,  that  Cagliostro  was 
seized  involuntarily,  and  joined  her. 

"  Oh !  was  it  not  heavenly,  was  it  not  a  glorious  comedy, 
and  did  I  not  play  divinely,  Joseph?  Was  I  not  bewitching 
as  the  goddess  of  Nature?" 

"You  looked  truly  like  a  goddess,  Lorenza,  and  there  is 
nothing  more  beautiful  than  you,  in  heaven  or  upon  earth. 
10 


138  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

But  come,  my  enchantress,  it  is  time  to  break  up,  as  we  ai-e 
to  set  off  early  to-morrow  morning." 

"Have  we  now  much  money?  Was  the  tribute  richly 
paid?" 

"  Yes,  we  have  a  hundred  louis  d'ors  and  a  diamond  ring 
from  the  mistress  of  this  house." 

"  Give  it  to  me,"  cried  Lorenza. 

"  Not  the  ring,  Lorenza,  but  the  diamond,  so  soon  as  I  have 
a  false  stone  set  in  the  ring — which  I  must  keep  as  a  ring  in 
the  chain  which  will  bind  this  woman  to  our  cause." 

"Was  I  not  astonishingly  like  her?  Was  it  not  almost 
unmistakable?" 

"  Yes,  wonderfully  deceptive.  I  shuddered  myself  as  I  saw 
the  dagger  pointed  at  your  bosom." 

"And  the  blood,  how  it  gushed  forth,  Joseph!"  Lorenza 
burst  into  a  merry  laugh  again,  and  Cagliostro  joined  her,  but 
suddenly  stopped,  and,  listening,  turned  toward  the  door, 
which  he  had  closed  after  Bischofswerder  departed.  It 
seemed  as  if  he  heard  a  noise — a  peculiar  knocking.  Four 
times  it  was  repeated,  and  Cagliostro  waved  his  hand  to  Lo- 
renza not  to  speak.  Again  were  heard  the  four  peculiar 
rhythmical  sounds.  "  Be  quiet,  for  Heaven's  sake  be  quiet, 
Lorenza !  Let  me  cover  you  with  the  veil ;  it  is  a  messenger 
from  the  Invisibles."  Cagliostro  flew  to  the  door,  unbolted 
it,  and  stood  humbly  near  the  entrance.  A  masked  figure, 
enveloped  in  a  cloak,  opened  it,  and  entered,  rebolting  it. 

Slowly  turning  toward  Cagliostro,  he  harshly  demanded, 
"Whose  servant  are  you?" 

"The  servant  of  the  Invisible  Eulers  and  Fathers,"  he 
humbly  answered. 

"  Who  are  the  Invisible  Fathers?" 

"The  four  ambassadors  of  the  great  general  of  the  exiles." 

"  Call  him  by  that  name  which  he  bore  before  a  heretic  pope 
in  Eome,  a  weak  empress,  a  free-thinking  emperor  in  Ger- 
many, a  lost-in-sin  French  emperor,  and  a  heretic  Spanish 
minister,  condemned  him  to  banishment  and  destruction." 


THE  JESUIT  GENERAL.  139 

"  General  of  the  Jesuits,"  he  answered  respectfully,  bowing 
lower. 

"  Do  you  know  the  sign  by  which  he  may  be  recognized?" 

"  Yes,  by  a  ring  with  the  likeness  of  the  founder  of  the 
order,  the  holy  Ignatius  Loyola." 

"  Then  look,  and  recognize  me,"  cried  the  mask,  extending 
his  hand  to  Cagliostro. 

"The  General,"  he  murmured,  frightened,  gazing  at  the 
ring  upon  the  small,  white  hand  of  the  other.  "  The  holy 
founder  of  the  order  himself!"  He  seized  his  hand  and 
pressed  it  to  his  lips,  sinking  upon  his  knees.  The  mask  re- 
mained standing  before  the  magician,  as  lowly  as  he  might 
bow  himself,  who  was  still  arrayed  in  his  brilliant  costume 
with  the  band  upon  his  brow  sparkling  like  diamonds. 

With  a  cold,  reserved  manner  he  answered,  "  I  am  he,  and 
am  come  here  to  give  you  my  commands  by  word  of  mouth." 

"  Command  me ;  I  am  thy  humble  servant,  and  but  a  weak 
tool  in  thy  hands." 

"  It  is  my  will  that  you  should  become  a  powerful  tool  in 
my  hands.  Rise,  for  I  will  speak  to  the  man  who  must  stand 
erect  in  the  storm.  Eise!"  The  proud  commander  was  now 
an  humble,  obedient  servant.  He  rose  slowly,  standing  with 
bowed  head. 

"When  and  where  did  we  last  meet?"  demanded  the  mask. 

"In  1773,  at  Rome." 

"  In  the  year  of  curse  and  blasphemy,"  said  the  mask,  in  a 
harsh  voice.  "  The  year  in  which  the  infamous  Pope  Clem- 
ent XVI.  condemned  the  holy  order,  and  hurled  his  famous 
Jw?Z,  Dominus  redemptor  noster.  The  holy  order,  condemned 
and  disbanded  by  his  infamous  mouth,  were  changed  into 
holy  martyrs,  without  country,  without  possessions  or  rights, 
as  persecuted  fugitives,  wandering  around  the  world,  to  the 
wicked  a  scorn,  to  the  pious  a  lamentable  example  of  virtue 
and  constancy.  Exiled  and  persecuted,  you  fled  to  a  house 
of  one  of  our  order,  and  there  we  for  the  first  time  met.  The 
daughter  of  this  man  was  your  beloved.  Tell  me  why  did  you 


140  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

conceal  yourself  after  flying  from  Palermo?  I  will  see  if  the 
elevated  one  ungratefully  forgets  the  days  of  his  degradation. " 

"  They  accused  me  in  Palermo  of  falsifying  documents  by 
which  rightful  owners  were  deprived  of  their  lawful  posses- 
sions. They  threw  me  into  subterranean  dungeons,  and  I  was 
near  dying,  when  the  Invisible  Protectors  rescued  me." 

"Was  the  accusation  well  founded?  Had  you  committed 
the  crime  you  were  accused  of?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Cagliostro,  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  was  guilty." 

"For  whom,  by  whose  authority?" 

"For  the  pious  fathers,  who  commanded  me,  and  whose 
pretensions  to  the  possessions  of  the  Due  Costa  Rica  were 
clearly  proved  by  those  documents." 

"You  then  learned  the  power  and  the  gratitude  of  out 
order.  From  underground  prisons  they  freed  you,  and  pro- 
cured a  way  of  escape  to  Rome,  to  find  a  safe  asylum  in  the 
house  of  a  believer.  But  just  at  that  time  condemnation 
burst  upon  us,  and  from  a  powerful  order  we  were  changed 
into  a  persecuted  one.  The  forger  Joseph  Balsamo  sought 
the  brazier  Feliciano,  who  gave  him  money,  letters  of  recom- 
mendation, and  instructed  him  how  to  serve  the  order,  and 
procure  an  agreeable  life  for  himself.  Is  it  not  so?" 

"It  is  so,"  answered  Cagliostro,  softly.  "It  was  the  order 
of  the  General  which  united  you  in  marriage  to  your  beloved 
Lorenza  Feliciana,  who  initiated  you  in  the  secret  sciences 
and  the  secrets  of  Nature,  that  you  might  employ  them  for 
the  well-being  of  humanity." 

"It  is  so,  master." 

"  You  implored  also,  as  you  were  about  to  separate,  to  see 
the  face  of  your  benefactor,  to  engrave  it  upon  your  heart. 
Would  you  now  be  able  to  recognize  it?" 

"I  could  in  an  instant,  among  thousands." 

The  General  slowly  raised  the  mask ;  a  pale,  emaciated  face 
was  visible,  with  great  black  eyes  in  sunken  sockets,  thin 
bloodless  lips,  and  a  high,  bony  brow.  "  Do  you  recognize 
me?" 


THE  JESUIT  GENERAL.  141 

"  No!"  sadly  answered  Cagliostro,  "  it  is  not  the  same  face." 

"  You  see,  my  son,  man  changes,  but  knowledge  not.  I 
am  another,  and  yet  the  same,  for  the  outward  human  form 
is  only  the  vessel  of  the  eternal  band  into  which  everlasting 
truth  and  the  holy  doctrines  are  poured.  If  the  vessel  breaks, 
it  is  replaced  by  another,  and  an  inexhaustible  spring. 
Thought  and  holy  knowledge  flow  into  the  renewed  vessel.  I 
am  a  new  vessel,  but  the  same  spirit  which  formerly  spoke  to 
you.  I  know  your  past  life,  and  for  what  purpose  you  are  in 
the  world.  As  the  General  then  spoke  to  you,  so  speak  I 
now.  The  unholy  have  put  the  holy  under  a  ban — they  have 
persecuted  and  condemned  us.  The  Holy  Order  of  the 
Fathers  of  Jesus  is  lifeless  before  the  world,  but  not  before 
God.  Jesuits  do  not  die,  for  they  bear  eternal  life  in  them, 
and  there  will  a  day  come  when  they  will  burst  forth  from 
darkness  into  light.  Go,  my  son,  and  help  prepare  the  day, 
help  smooth  the  way,  that  we  may  walk  therein.  Have  you 
obeyed?" 

"  I  have  consecrated  my  whole  life  to  it,  your  eminence.  I 
have  wandered  around  the  world,  and  everywhere  striven  to 
disseminate  the  doctrine  of  the  Invisible  Fathers,  and  win 
disciples  and  adherents  to  the  order.  The  Brothers  of  the 
Egyptian  Masons,  the  Brothers  of  the  Rosicrucians,  are  the 
disciples  which  I  have  won,  and  you  know  well  there  are 
many  mighty  and  illustrious  men  among  them." 

"  I  know  it,  and  I  am  satisfied  you  are  an  active  and  useful 
tool.  This  I  came  to  tell  you,  that  I  might  stimulate  and 
advise  you.  Great  deeds  you  shall  perform,  great  achieve- 
ments the  holy  Ignatius  Loyola  announces  by  my  mouth. 
The  world  lies  in  sin,  and  the  devil  strides  victorious  over  it, 
since  the  holy  order  has  been  proscribed  and  persecuted  by 
the  wicked.  The  devil  is  arrogant  progress  and  boasting 
reason.  They  who  listen  to  him  think  themselves  wise  when 
they  are  fools,  and  speak  of  their  enlightenment  while  they 
still  wander  in  the  dark.  To  combat  this  reason,  to  oppose 
this  intelligence,  is  the  task  of  our  order,  which  will  never 


142  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

die.  For  God  sent  it  forth  to  the  world  to  fight  the  devil  of 
progress,  who  is  the  ruler  of  darkness.  I  have  observed  you, 
I  have  followed  you,  and  I  am  satisfied.  But  I  await  still 
greater  things  from  you." 

"What  shall  it  be?  Speak,  0  master;  command,  and  I 
obey!" 

"  You  shall  strive  throughout  Europe  for  the  restitution  of 
the  holy  order.  You  shall  subject  to  it  all  minds;  make  the 
rich,  the  powerful,  the  eminent  and  great,  serviceable  to  it. 
Into  the  Orders  of  the  Eosicrucians  and  Egyptian  Masons  you 
shall  gather  all  the  stray  and  isolated  sheep  into  a  flock,  to 
await  with  longing  the  coming  of  the  shepherd,  and  prepare 
a  place  for  him.  To  the  holy  Church  you  shall  consecrate  the 
band  of  brothers,  the  only  blessed  Church,  which  is  the  lofty 
abode  of  the  father  of  our  order.  To  us  belongs  the  world ; 
you  shall  assist  to  reconquer  it.  Unbelievers  shall  be  fought 
•with  every  weapon.  Every  deception,  slander,  persecution, 
and  murder,  are  holy  if  used  for  the  benefit  of  the  holy  order. 
You  shall  shrink  from  nothing  which  is  useful  and  beneficial 
for  the  sublime  goal.  The  murder  of  a  prince  is  no  sin,  but 
a  just  punishment,  when  it  is  necessary  to  remove  a  mighty 
enemy.  If  you  create  revolutions,  cause  nations  to  tear  each 
other  to  pieces  in  grim  civil  war,  these  revolutions  will  be 
sanctified,  the  civil  wars  blessed,  if  they  serve  to  strengthen 
the  power  of  our  order,  and  gain  victory  at  last  against  the 
opponents.  Only  through  our  order  can  happiness  reenter 
the  world,  and  mankind  be  rescued.  If  the  Holy  Fathers  do 
not  sit  in  the  council  of  princes,  if  they  are  not  the  conscience 
of  the  powerful,  and  steer  the  machine  of  state,  the  world 
goes  to  destruction,  and  mankind  is  lost.  You  shall  help, 
my  son,  to  turn  aside  the  evil,  and  prepare  happiness  for 
earth.  You  have  already  done  much,  but  much  more  is  re- 
quired. Go  and  work  miracles;  belief  in  them  sanctifies  the 
mind.  Our  fathers  will  sustain  you  everywhere,  for  you  well 
know  they  are  always  present,  though  it  is  imagined  they  are 
not.  The  infamous  Ganganelli  has  stripped  them  of  their 


THE  JESUIT  GENERAL.  143 

uniform,  but  not  annihilated  them,  as  we  are,  and  ever  shall 
be.  I  have  sent  out  nine  thousand  brothers  in  Europe  for  the 
benefit  of  the  order,  and  you  will  recognize  them  by  the 
watchword.  They  will  serve  you  as  you  will  serve  them.  If 
danger  menaces  you,  our  brothers  will  know  it,  and  rescue 
you.  You  will  be  unassailable,  so  long  as  you  work  for  tho 
order,  and  win  disciples  for  it.  Prussia  is  our  important 
station,  as  you  rightly  judged,  and  I  extol  you  for  your  foro- 
sight.  You  prepare  the  future,  for  here  it  will  be !  When 
the  royal  mocker  of  religion  dies,  then  comes  a  new  kingdom, 
and  the  Kosi  crucians  will  rise  to  power.  Vices  as  well  as 
virtues  must  serve  us ;  therefore,  Bischofswerder  and  Wilhel- 
mine  Enke  are  useful  means  for  holy  purposes.  That  you 
have  recognized  it  I  praise  you.  Continue,  my  son,  as  you 
have  begun,  and  you  shall  become  powerful  upon  the  earth. 
Not  a  hair  of  your  head  shall  be  touched  so  long  as  you  ars 
faithful  to  the  Invisible  Fathers.  But  so  soon  as  you  turn 
traitor  to  the  holy  cause  you  are  lost,  and  our  anger  will  crush 
you!" 

"Never  will  I  turn  traitor,"  cried  Cagliostro,  holding  up 
his  hands  as  if  taking  an  oath. 

"  I  hope  not.  Our  enemies  shall  be  your  enemies,  and  our 
friends  your  friends.  If  one  of  the  brothers  orders  you  in  my 
name,  '  Kill  this  man  or  that  woman, '  so  kill  them !  Swear 
it!" 

Shuddering,  Cagliostro  repeated,  "I  swear  it!" 

"  As  soon  as  one  of  the  brothers  orders  you,  in  my  name, 
'Rescue  this  man  or  that  woman,'  so  do  every  thing;  even 
risk  and  sacrifice  your  life  to  rescue  him." 

"I  swear  it." 

"  You  stand  in  the  holy  temple  of  the  order,  but  also  under 
its  avenging  sword.  Be  mindful  of  it  in  all  your  acts.  The 
world  is  open  to  you,  and  our  influence  will  be  with  you  every- 
where. You  shall  win  the  hearts  of  the  great  and  the  mighty 
to  us,  and  place  the  Order  of  the  Rosicrucians  on  the  steps  o2 
the  throne.  The  Great  Kophta  shall  lead  believers  to  us." 


144  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  The  Great  Kophta  will  perform  all  that  you  command,  as 
he  is  only  the  humble  servant  of  his  general,"  said  Cagliostro, 
kissing  the  hand  extended  to  him. 

"  Do  not  kiss  the  hand,  it  is  only  that  of  an  inferior  mortal : 
kiss  the  ring,  for  it  is  the  imperishable  sign  of  our  immortal 
saint." 

"  I  kiss  the  ring  of  the  immortal  Ignatius  Loyola,  and  swear 
eternal  fidelity,  constant  obedience,  and  firm  love,  until 
der.th." 

"  Kise !  for  the  time  has  come  for  us  to  separate.  I  have 
provided  for  the  journeys  the  necessary  means.  Here  are  let- 
ters of  recommendation  to  Warsaw  and  Mittau,  others  to 
Paris  and  London ;  but,  the  most  important  of  all,  letters  of 
credit  upon  well-known  bankers  to  the  value  of  five  hundred 
thousand  dollars — all  valid,  though  delivered  years  hence." 

"A  half  million!"  cried  Cagliostro,  almost  terrified. 

"Does  a  half  million  astonish  you?"  repeated  the  General, 
and  his  gray,  fleshless  face  was  distorted  into  a  smile.  "  The 
Great  Kophta  must  travel  and  live  like  a  prince,  that  he  may 
dazzle  the  eyes  of  the  brothers,  and  subjugate  the  minds  of 
the  powerful.  We  give  you  the  money,  but  remember  you 
are  always  under  the  watchful  eye  of  the  order,  and  there  is 
no  spot  on  earth  where  you  can  hide  yourself  from  our  ven- 
geance with  the  trust  confided  in  you.  You  shall  spend  it  to 
buy  souls  and  win  thrones,  for  hearts  and  consciences  are  sold ; 
money  will  buy  every  thing.  Take  your  letters  of  credit ;  you 
shall  live  as  a  great  lord,  and  the  Great  Kophta  shall  be  equal 
with  princes." 

He  handed  Cagliostro  five  sealed  betters,  saying:  "They 
are  made  out  for  five  years;  only  one  for  each  year,  as  the 
number  indicates.  Number  one  is  for  this  year,  and  number 
five  is  only  valid  at  the  expiration  of  five  years.  The  order  is 
mindful  of  your  security,  and  thus  five  years  of  your  life  are 
freed  from  earthly  care.  You  shall  work  in  spirit,  and  you 
shall  enchant  the  world,  that  it  may  be  saved  through  the 
only  saving  Church,  and  the  Holy  Order." 


THE  JESUIT  GENERAL.  145 

He  bowed  a  farewell,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon 
Cagliostro,  and  bent  his  steps  to  the  throne,  raising  the  veil 
which  enveloped  Lorenza.  She  looked  up  to  him  with  glow- 
ing cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes,  smiling.  By  this  she  would 
express  her  thanks  for  the  princely  gift  to  her  husband,  and 
swear  to  the  General  her  delight,  her  fidelity,  and  love.  He 
regarded  her  as  coldly  and  calmly  as  a  physician  .  patient. 

"  Yes,  holy  father,  I  have  heard  all,"  she  -  aid,  with  a  sweet, 
flute-like  voice.  "  My  heart  is  filled  with  gratitude  and 
emotion." 

"  Prove  it  by  assisting  your  husband  to  attain  the  goal  for 
which  we  send  him  forth.  I  have  already  said  that  vice  must 
serve  virtue,  Lorenza.  Beauty  is  a  power,  and  if  it  serves 
holy  purposes,  so  is  it  sanctified.  Employ  your  beauty  to  win 
adherents  to  the  order,  and  extend  the  power  of  the  Rosicru- 
cians  in  every  land,  and  among  all  nations." 

"  I  swear  that  this  shall  be  my  holiest  endeavor,"  cried  Lo- 
renza, rising. 

The  General  pressed  her  back  upon  the  pillow,  saying: 
"Remain,  for  there  is  no  one  here  for  you  to  enchant.  I 
bring  you  pardon  for  your  sins,  and  an  indulgence  for  every 
sin  which  you  will  commit,  if  you  swear  to  serve  faithfully 
the  holy  Church  and  the  pious  fathers  of  Jesus." 

"  I  swear,"  solemnly  cried  Lorenza. 

"  Here  is  the  letter  of  indulgence  from  Pius  VI.  himself, 
made  out  in  your  name  for  you.  Take  it,  and  perform  your 
duty."  He  laid  down  the  parchment  provided  with  the  papal 
seal  upon  her  shoulder,  and  drawing  the  veil  over  her  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  saying,  "  I  bless  you,  and  give  you  ab- 
solution for  your  sins." 

"  Bless  me  also,  lord  and  master,"  cried  Cagliostro,  kneel- 
ing upon  the  lowest  step  to  the  throne. 

"  I  bless  you  in  the  name  of  Loyola.  Remain  upon  your 
knees,  and  follow  me  not."  He  extended  his  hands  over  him, 
and  blessed  him,  then  slowly  withdrew. 

The  first  beams  of  the  morning  sun  shone  through  the 


146  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

great  window-panes,  lighting  up  with  its  golden  rays  Cagli- 
ostro's  kneeling  form.  He  remained  with  his  head  bowed 
until  the  General  had  passed  out.  "  He  is  gone ;  Heaven  be 
praised,  he  is  gone!" 

"Yes,  he  is  gone,"  repeated  Lorenza,  springing  from  the 
couch.  "  Is  it  true,  has  he  given  you  half  a  million?" 

Cagliostro  held  up  with  triumphant  air  the  letters. 
"  See,  these  addresses  are  upon  the  first  banking-houses  in 
Rome,  Paris,  London,  and  Berlin!" 

"Do  you  believe  that  they  are  genuine?" 

"I  am  convinced  of  it." 

"  Then  we  have  attained  our  aim ;  we  are  rich  and  power- 
ful." 

"No,"  answered  Cagliostro,  mournfully,  "we  are  poorer 
than  ever.  This  money  makes  us  slaves,  makes  us  dependent 
tools.  Did  you  not  hear  him  say,  'You  are  admitted  into  the 
Temple,  but  the  avenging  sword  of  the  order  everywher3 
hangs  over  you.' " 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

A   PENSIONED     GENERAL. 

"WiFE,"  cried  the  General  von  Werrig,  limping  around  the 
room,  leaning  upon  his  crutch,  "  here  is  the  answer  from  our 
most  gracious  lord  and  king.  The  courier  arrived  to-day 
from  the  war  department,  and  sent  it  to  me  by  an  express." 

"What  is  the  king's  answer?"  asked  the  general's  wife,  a 
pale,  gaunt  woman,  with  a  pock-marked  face,  harsh,  severe 
features,  dull  gray  eyes,  which  never  beamed  with  emotion, 
and  thin,  bloodless  lips,  upon  which  a  smile  never  played. 
"  What  is  the  king's  answer?"  she  repeated,  in  a  rough  voice, 
as  her  husband,  puffing  and  blowing  from  the  effort  of  walk- 
ing, sank  down  upon  a  chair,  and  dried  his  fat,  ruby  face 
with  a  red  cotton  pocket-handkerchief. 

"I  have  not  read  it,"  panted  the  old  man.     "I  thought  I 


A  PENSIONED  GENERAL.  147 

would  leave  the  honor  to  you,  as  you,  my  very  learned  wife, 
wrote  the  letter  to  his  majesty." 

His  wife  was  not  in  the  least  astonished  at  this  thoughtful 
conduct  of  her  husband.  She  impetuously  seized  the  sealed 
document,  and,  retiring  to  the  window-niche,  slowly  unfolded 
it,  whilst  the  old  general  fixed  his  little  gray  eyes  upon  her 
emotionless  face.  His  own  was  bloated  and  red,  expressing 
the  greatest  anxiety  and  expectation.  Perfect  stillness  reigned 
for  some  minutes,  only  the  regular  strokes  of  the  pendulum 
were  heard  from  the  clock  on  the  wall ;  and,  as  the  hands 
pointed  to  the  expiration  of  the  hour,  a  cuckoo  sprang  out  of 
the  tree  painted  over  the  dial,  and  eleven  times  her  hoarse, 
croaking  voice  was  heard. 

"  It  gets  every  day  more  out  of  tune,"  growled  the  general, 
as  he  looked  up  to  the  old,  yellow  dial,  and  ran  his  eye  over 
the  cords  which  supported  the  weights.  Then  glancing 
around  the  room,  he  saw  everywhere  age,  decay,  and  in- 
digence. There  was  an  old  divan,  with  a  patched,  faded 
covering  of  silk,  and  a  grandfather's  arm-chair  near  it,  the 
cushion  of  whicli  the  general  knew,  by  the  long  years  of  ex- 
perience, to  be  hard  as  a  stone.  A  round  table  stood  near  the 
divan,  covered  with  a  shabby  woollen  cover,  to  hide  the  much- 
thumbed,  dull  polish.  A  few  cane-chairs  against  the  wall,  an 
old  black-oak  wardrobe  near  the  door,  and  the  sewing-table  of 
Madame  von  Werrig  in  the  window-niche,  completed  the 
furniture  of  the  room.  At  the  window  hung  faded  woollen 
curtains,  and  on  the  green  painted  walls  some  pictures  and 
portraits,  conspicuous  among  them  a  beautiful  portrait  of  the 
king,  painted  on  copper,  which  represented  Frederick  in  his 
youthful  beauty.  It  was  a  morose,  sullen-looking  room,  ar- 
ranged most  certainly  by  its  feminine  occupant,  and  harmo- 
nized exactly  with  her  fretful  face  and  angular  figure,  void  of 
charms.  At  last  the  general  broke  the  silence  with  submissive 
voice:  "  I  pray  you,  Clotilda,  tell  me  what  the  king  wrote." 

She  folded  the  paper,  joy  beaming  in  her  eyes.  "  Granted ! 
every  thing  granted!" 


148  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

The  general  jumped  up  to  embrace  his  wife  with  youthful 
activity,  in  spite  of  the  gout.  "You  are  a  capital  wife,"  he 
cried,  at  the  same  time  giving  her  a  loud,  smacking  kiss  upon 
her  cold,  gray  cheek.  "  It  was  the  brightest,  cleverest  act  of 
my  life  marrying  you,  Clotilda." 

"/  might  well  say  the  reverse,  Emerentius,"  she  replied, 
complainingly.  "  It  surely  was  not  sensible  for  me,  a  young 
lady  from  such  a  genteel  family,  and  so  spoiled,  to  marry  an 
officer  whom  the  king  ennobled  upon  the  battle-field,  and  who 
possessed  nothing  but  his  captain's  pay — a  fickle  man,  and  a 
gambler,  too." 

"Yes,  Clotilda,  love  usurped  reason,"  soothingly  replied  the 
general;  "love  is  your  excuse." 

"Nonsense!"  cried  Madame  von  Werrig.  "  Love  is  never 
an  excuse;  it  is  folly." 

"Well,  let  us  suppose,  then,  that  you  did  not  marry  for 
love,  only  from  pure  reason,  because  you  found  that  it  was 
quite  time  to  espouse  some  one ;  and  that,  in  spite  of  your 
many  ancestors  and  genteel  family,  no  other  chance  was 
offered  you,  unfortunately — no  one  but  this  captain,  whom 
the  king  ennobled  upon  the  battle-field  of  Leu  then  on  account 
of  his  bravery,  and  who  was  a  very  handsome,  agreeable 
officer,  expecting  still  further  promotion.  And  you  were  not 
deceived.  I  was  major,  when  the  Hubertsburger  treaty  put 
an  end  to  a  gay  war-life.  You  will  remember  I  was  advanced 
during  peace;  his  majesty  did  not  forget  that  I  cut  a  way  for 
him  through  the  enemy,  and  he  made  me  lieutenant-colonel 
and  colonel,  when  I  was  obliged  to  resign  on  account  of  this 
infamous  gout,  and  then  I  received  the  title  of  general. " 

"Without 'excellency,'"  replied  his  wife,  dryly.  "I  have 
not  even  this  pleasure  to  be  called  'excellency.'  It  would 
have  been  a  slight  compensation  for  my  sad,  miserable  exist- 
ence, and  vexed  many  of  the  female  friends  of  my  youth  if 
they  had  been  obliged  to  call  me  'excellency.'  But  my  mar- 
riage brought  me  only  cares,  not  even  a  title." 

"  Do  not  forget  a  lovely  daughter,  Clotilda.     Our  Marie  is 


A  PENSIONED  GENERAL.  149 

beautiful,  wise,  and  good,  and  through  her  you  will  yet  have 
tranquil  happiness.  For  you  say  the  king  has  granted  all  we 
wish." 

"Everything!"  repeated  the  wife,  with  emphasis.  "We 
have  at  last  finished  with  want  and  care,  and  can  count  upon 
an  independent,  quiet  old  age,  for  God  has  been  gracious, 
and  forced  you,  from  the  gout,  to  give  up  gambling,  and  we 
are  freed  from  the  misery  which  has  so  often  threatened  us 
from  your  unhappy  passion." 

"At  the  beginning,  I  played  from  passion;  afterward,  I 
only  played  to  win  back  what  I  had  lost. " 

"And  in  that  manner  played  away  all  we  possessed,  and 
played  upon  your  word  of  honor,  so  that  for  years  the  half  of 
our  pension  went  to  pay  your  gambling-debts.  Heaven  be 
thanked,  the  king  did  not  know  it,  or  we  would  have  experi- 
enced still  worse!" 

"  I  pray  you,  beloved  Clotilda,  do  not  fret  yourself  need- 
lessly about  the  past;  it  is  all  over,  and,  as  you  say,  I  am  un- 
fortunately a  prisoner  in  the  house  from  the  gout,  which 
shields  me  from  the  temptation." 

"I  did  not  say  unfortunately;  I  said 'Heaven  be  praised, 
the  gout  had  put  an  end  to  your  fickle  life. '  " 

"  Then,  thank  Heaven,  my  dear ;  we  will  not  quarrel  about 
it.  It  is  past,  and,  as  the  king  has  granted  all,  we  shall  have 
a  pleasant  life  now." 

"  We  will  soon  receive  from  our  son-in-law  a  yearly  pension, 
which  will  be  paid  to  me,  and  I  shall  spend  it." 

The  general  sighed.  "  In  that  case  I  fear  that  I  shall  not 
get  much  of  it." 

"  At  any  rate,  more  than  I  have  ever  received  from  your 
pension. " 

"  There  is  but  one  thing  wanting,"  replied  the  general, 
evasively,  "Marie's  consent." 

Madame  von  Werrig  gave  a  short,  gruff  laugh,  which  did 
not  in  the  least  brighten  her  sullen  face.  "  We  will  not  ask 
her  consent,  but  command  it." 


150  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

The  general  remarked,  timidly,  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
"  Marie  had  a  very  decided  character,  and — " 

"What  do  you  hesitate  to  speak  out  for?     What — and — " 

"  I  think  she  still  loves  the  Conrector  Moritz." 

A  second  laugh,  somewhat  menacing,  sounded  like  a  chal- 
lenge. "The  schoolmaster!"  she  cried,  contemptuously. 
"  Let  her  dare  to  tell  me  again  she  loves  the  schoolmaster ; 
she  the  daughter  of  a  general,  and  a  native-born  countess  of 
the  empire!" 

"  My  dear,  it  was  your  fault — the  only  fault  you  ever  com- 
mitted, perhaps.  How  could  you  let  such  a  young,  hand- 
some, and  agreeable  man  come  to  the  house  as  teacher  to  our 
daughter?" 

"  How  could  I  suppose  my  daughter  was  so  degenerated  as 
to  love  a  common  schoolmaster,  and  wish  to  marry  him?" 

"  It  is  truly  unheard  of,  and  it  would  make  any  one  angry, 
my  dear  wife,  for  she  insists  upon  loving  him." 

"  She  will  not  insist,  she  will  do  what  she  is  commanded  to 
do — my  word  for  it!  But  why  talk  about  it?  It  is  better  to 
decide  the  matter  at  once. " 

So  Frau  von  Werrig  rose  with  a  determined  manner,  and 
rang  the  small  brass  bell  which  was  upon  the  sofa-table.  But 
a  few  seconds  elapsed  before  a  little,  crooked  servant  appeared, 
at  the  side-door,  with  her  dirty  apron  put  aside  by  tucking 
the  corner  in  her  belt.  "  Go  to  my  daughter,  and  tell  her  to 
come  down  immediately!" 

The  servant,  instead  of  hastening  to  obey  the  order,  re- 
mained standing  upon  the  threshold.  "  I  dare  not  go,"  said 
she,  in  a  hoarse,  croaking  voice.  "  Fraulein  told  me  not  to 
disturb  her  to-day,  for  she  has  still  two  bouquets  of  flowers  to 
arrange,  and  two  lessons  to  give,  and  she  is  so  busy  that  she 
is  not  at  home  to  visitors.  She  torments  herself  from  morn- 
ing till  night." 

"  I  order  you  to  tell  Fraulein  to  come  down  at  once ;  we 
have  something  important  to  tell  her.  No  contradiction! 
go,  Trade!" 


A  PENSIONED  GENERAL.  151 

The  servant  understood  the  cold,  commanding  tone  of  the 
mother,  and  dared  not  disobey. 

"  It  is  nothing  good  that  they  have  to  tell  her,"  grumbled 
Trude,  as  she  hurried  up  the  stairs  which  led  from  the  first 
story  into  the  little,  low  room  in  the  attic,  under  the  sloping 
roof.  Here  and  there  a  few  tiles  could  be  lifted,  which 
lighted  the  garret  sufficiently  to  show  the  door  at  the  end. 
'  May  I  come  in,  my  dear  Fraulein?  it  is  Trude." 

"  The  door  is  open,"  cried  a  sweet  voice,  and  Trude  entered. 
It  is  a  most  charming  little  room,  just  that  of  a  young  girl. 
The  bed  has  a  snow-white  covering,  and  white  curtains,  sus- 
pended from  a  hook  in  the  wall  around  it.  The  same  cur- 
tains at  the  low  gable-windows,  whose  depth,  so  to  speak, 
made  a  light  anteroom  to  the  real  gloomy  one  in  the  back- 
ground. In  this  little  anteroom  the  young  girl  had  placed 
all  that  was  necessary  for  her  pleasure  and  use.  There  were 
the  most  beautiful,  sweet-scented  flowers  upon  the  window- 
stool;  in  a  pretty  metal  cage  was  a  light-colored  canary. 
There  were  also  pretty  engravings,  and  upon  the  table  stood  a 
vase  filled  with  superb  artificial  flowers,  and  before  it  sat  the 
possessor  of  this  room,  the  daughter  of  General  and  Frau 
von  Werrig,  surrounded  with  her  work-tools,  paper,  and  col- 
ored materials — a  young  girl,  scarcely  twenty,  of  a  proud, 
dignified  appearance,  but  simply  and  gracefully  dressed.  Ac- 
cording to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  her  hair  was  slightly 
powdered,  and  raised  high  above  her  broad,  clear  brow  with  a 
blue  rosette,  and  ends  at  the  side.  Thf  nobly-formed  anl 
beautiful  face  was  slightly  flushed,  and  around  the  mouth  was 
an  expression  of  courageous  energy.  As  old  Trude  entered, 
the  young  girl  raised  her  eyes  from  the  rose-bud  which  she 
\vas  just  finishing,  and  looked  at  her.  What  beautiful  black 
eyes  they  were  as  they  sparkled  underneath  the  delicately- 
arched,  black  eyebrows! 

"Now,  old  one,"  said  she,  kindly,  "  what  do  you  wish? 
Did  you  forget  that  I  wanted  to  work  undisturbed  to-day?" 

"  Didn't  forget  it,  my  Fraulein,  but — " 


152  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  But  you  have  forgotten  that  up  here,  in  my  attic-room,  I 
am  not  your  Fraulein,  but  your  Marie,  whom  you  have  taken 
care  of  and  watched  over  when  a  child,  and  whose  best  and 
truest  friend  you  have  been.  Come,  give  me  your  hand,  and 
tell  me  what  you  have  to  say." 

Old  Trude  shuffled  hurriedly  along  in  her  leather  slippers. 
Her  old,  homely  face  looked  almost  attractive,  with  its  ex- 
pression of  glowing  tenderness,  as  she  regarded  the  beautiful, 
smiling  face  before  her,  and  laid  her  hard  brown  hand  in  the 
little  white  one  extended  to  her.  "Marie,"  she  said,  softly 
and  anxiously,  "  you  must  go  down  at  once  to  your  mother 
and  father.  They  have  something  very  important  to  tell  you. " 

"Something  very  important!"  repeated  Marie,  laying  aside 
her  work.  "  Do  you  know  what  it  is?" 

"Nothing  good,  I  fear,"  sighed  the  old  woman.  "A  sol- 
dier has  been  here  from  the  war  department  and  brought  a 
letter  for  the  general,  and  he  told  me  that  it  was  sent  from 
the  king's  cabinet  at  Breslau." 

"Oh,  Heaven!  what  does  it  mean?"  cried  Marie,  fright- 
ened, and  springing  up.  "  Something  is  going  to  happen,  I 
know.  I  have  noticed  certain  expressions  which  escaped  my 
father ;  the  proud,  threatening  manner  of  my  mother ;  but 
above  all  the  bold  importunity  of  that  man,  whom  I  despise 
as  one  detests  vice,  stupidity,  and  ennui.  They  will  not  be- 
lieve that  I  hate  him,  that  I  rather — " 

"Marie,  are  you  not  coming?"  called  the  mother,  with  a 
commanding  voice. 

"  I  must  obey,"  she  said,  drawing  a  long  breath,  and  hasten- 
ing to  the  door,  followed  by  Trude,  who  pulled  her  back  and 
held  her  fast  upon  the  very  first  step.  "  You  have  forbidden 
me  to  speak  of  him,  but  I  must." 

Marie  stood  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot,  her  face  flushed,  and 
in  breathless  expectation  looking  back  to  old  Trude. 
"  Speak,  Trude,"  she  softly  murmured. 

"  Marie,  I  saw  him  to-day,  an  hour  ago!" 

"Where,  Trude,  where  did  you  see  him?" 


THE  KING'S  LETTER.  153 

"  Over  on  tne  corner  of  Frederick  Street,  by  the  baker's. 
He  stood  waiting  for  me,  as  he  knows  I  always  go  there.  He 
had  been  there  two  hours,  and  feared  that  I  was  not  coming." 

"  What  did  he  say?     Quick!  what  did  he  say?" 

"  He  said  that  he  was  coming  to  see  you  to-day  at  twelve 
o'clock;  that  he  would  rather  die  than  live  in  this  way." 

"  To-day?  and  you  have  just  told  me  of  it!" 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  say  any  thing  at  all  about  it;  I  thought 
it  would  be  better,  and  then  you  would  not  have  to  dissemble. 
But  now,  if  any  harm  comes  to  you,  you  know  he  is  coming, 
and  will  stand  by  you !" 

"  He  will  stand  by  me — yes,  he  will — " 

"Marie!"  cried  her  mother,  and  her  dry,  gaunt  figure  ap- 
peared at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  Marie  flew  down  to  the 
sitting-room  of  her  parents,  following  her  mother,  who  took 
her  place  in  the  niche  at  the  open  window  without  speaking 
to  her. 


CHAPTEE    XIV. 

THE    KING'S    LETTER. 

•  MARIE,"  said  the  general's  wife,  after  seating  herseli 
upon  the  hard  cushion  of  the  divan,  near  which  sat  the  gen- 
eral in  his  arm-chair,  busily  stroking  his  painful  right  leg — 
"Marie,  take  a  chair,  and  sit  near  us." 

Marie  noiselessly  brought  a  cane-chair,  and  seated  herself 
by  the  table,  opposite  her  parents. 

"  We  have  just  received  a  communication  from  the  king's 
3abinet,"  said  the  mother,  solemnly.  "It  is  necessary  that 
you  should  know  the  contents,  and  I  will  read  it  aloud  to  you. 
I  expressly  forbid  you,  however,  to  interrupt  me  while  I  am 
reading,  in  your  impetuous  manner,  with  your  remarks, 
which  are  always  of  the  most  obstinate  and  disagreeable  kind. 
You  understand,  do  you,  Marie?" 
11 


154  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Perfectly,  mother;  I  will  listen  without  interrupting  you, 
according  to  your  command." 

"  This  communication  is  naturally  addressed  to  your  father> 
as  I  wrote  to  the  king  in  his  name." 

"  I  did  not  know  that  you  had  written  to  his  majesty  at  all, 
dear  mother." 

The  mother  cast  a  furious  glance  at  the  gentle,  decided  face 
of  her  daughter.  "  You  already  forget  my  command  and  your 
promise  to  listen  without  interrupting  me.  I  did,  indeed, 
write  to  his  majesty,  but  it  is  not  necessary  to  tell  you  what 
I,  or  rather  your  father,  solicited,  as  you  will  hear  it  in  the 
answer  from  our  most  gracious  king.  It  runs  thus:  'My 
faithful  subject :  I  have  received  your  petition,  and  I  was 
glad  to  learn  by  this  occasion  that  you  are  well,  and  that  you 
now  lead  a  steady,  reasonable  life.  Formerly  you  gave  good 
cause  of  complaint;  for  it  is  well  known  to  me  that  you. led  a 
dissolute  life,  and  your  family  suffered  want  and  misfortune 
from  your  abominable  chance-games.  You  know  that  I  have 
twice  paid  your  debts ;  that  at  the  second  time  I  gave  you  my 
royal  word  of  assurance  that  I  would  never  pay  a  groschen  for 
you  again.  If  you  gave  yourself  up  to  the  vice,  and  made 
gambling-debts,  I  would  send  you  to  the  fortress  at  Spandau, 
and  deprive  you  of  your  pension.  Nevertheless  you  played 
again,  and  commenced  your  vicious  life  anew.  Notwithstand- 
ing which,  I  did  not  send  you  to  prison  as  I  threatened,  and 
as  you  deserved,  because  I  remembered  that  you  had  been  a 
brave  soldier,  and  did  me  a  good  service  at  the  battle  of  Leu- 
then.  For  this  reason  I  now  also  grant  your  request,  that,  as 
you  have  no  son,  your  name  and  coat-of-arms  may  descend  to 
your  son-in-law.  The  name  of  Werrig-Leuthen  is  well  worthy 
to  be  preserved,  and  be  an  example  to  succeeding  generations. 
I  give  my  permission  for  Ludwig  Ebenstreit,  banker,  to 
marry  your  daughter  and  only  child,  and — '  " 

Marie  uttered  a  cry  of  horror,  and  sprang  from  her  seat. 
"Mother!—" 

"Be  still!     I  commanded  you  not  to  interrupt  me,  but  lis- 


THE  KING'S  LETTER.  155 

ken,  with  becoming  respect,  to  the  end,  to  the  words  of  his 
majesty."  And,  with  a  louder  voice,  occasionally  casting  a 
severe,  commanding  glance  at  her  daughter,  she  read  on: 
"  'And  call  himself  in  future  Ludwig  "VVerrig  von  Leuthen. 
I  wish  that  he  should  honor  the  new  name,  and  prove  himself 
a  true  nobleman.  Ludwig  Ebenstreit  must  give  up,  or  sell, 
without  delay,  his  banking  business,  as  I  cannot  permit  a 
nobleman  to  continue  the  business  of  citizen,  and  remain  a 
merchant.  A  nobleman  must  either  be  a  soldier  or  a  landed 
proprietor ;  and  if  your  future  son-in-law  will  not  be  either, 
he  can  live  upon  his  income,  which  must  indeed  be  ample. 
But  I  command  him  to  spend  it  in  the  country,  not  go  to  for- 
eign countries  to  spend  what  he  has  gained  in  the  country.  If 
he  should  do  it,  it  will  not  be  well  with  him,  and  he  shall  be 
brought  back  by  force.  You  may  communicate  this  to  him, 
and  he  can  judge  for  himself.  I  will  have  the  letters  of  no- 
bility made  out  for  him,  for  which  he  shall  pay  the  sum  of 
one  hundred  louis  d'ors  to  the  'Invalids'  at  Berlin.  It  de- 
pends upon  him  whether  as  a  true  nobleman  he  will  not  give 
my  poor  'Invalids'  a  greater  sum.  The  marriage  shall  not 
take  place  until  the  letters  of  nobility  have  been  published  in 
the  Berlin  journals,  for  I  do  not  wish  the  daughter  of  a  gen- 
eral, and  a  countess,  to  marry  beneath  her.  You  can  prepare 
every  thing  for  the  wedding,  and  let  them  be  married  as  soon 
as  the  publication  has  been  made.  I  will  give  the  bride  a 
thousand  thalers  for  a  dowry,  that  she  may  not  go  to  her 
rich  husband  penniless;  the  money  will  be  paid  to  your 
daughter  from  the  government  treasury  at  her  receipt.  As 
ever,  I  remain  your  well-disposed  king,  FREDERICK.  ' 

"And  here  on  the  margin,"  continued  the  general's  wife, 
looking  over  to  her  husband  with  malicious  pleasure,  "  the 
king  has  written  a  few  lines  in  his  own  hand:  'I  have  given 
orders  that  the  money  shall  be  paid  to  your  daughter  in  per- 
son, with  her  receipt  for  the  same,  for  I  know  you,  and  know 
that  you  do  not  play,  not  because  you  have  not  the  money,  but 
the  gout.  If  you  had  the  cash  and  not  the  gout,  you  would 


156  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

play  your  daughter's  dowry  to  tne  devil,  and  that  I  do  not 
wish,  for  a  noble  maiden  should  not  marry  a  rich  husband  as 
poor  as  a  church  mouse.  FREDERICK.  '  " 

A  profound  stillness  prevailed  when  the  reading  was  fin- 
ished. The  general  busied  himself,  as  usual,  rubbing  his 
gouty  leg  with  the  palm  of  his  hand.  Marie  sat  with  her 
hands  pressed  upon  her  bosom,  as  if  she  would  force  back  the 
sighs  and  sobs  which  would  break  forth.  Her  great,  black 
eyes  were  turned  to  her  mother  with  an  expression  of  painful 
terror,  and  she  searched  with  a  deathly  anxiety  for  a  trace  of 
sympathy  and  mercy  upon  her  cold,  immovable  face. 

Her  mother  slowly  folded  the  letter,  and  laid  it  upon  the 
table.  "  You  know  all  now,  Marie — that,  as  it  becomes  par- 
ents, we  have  disposed  of  your  future  and  your  hand.  You 
will  submit  to  their  wishes  without  murmuring  or  opposition, 
as  it  becomes  an  obedient,  well-brought-up  daughter,  and  re- 
ceive the  husband  we  have  chosen  for  you.  He  will  come  to- 
day to  hear  your  consent,  and  you  from  this  day  forth  are  the 
betrothed  of  the  future  Herr  von  Werrig.  Of  course  from 
this  very  hour  you  will  cease  the  highly  improper  and  un- 
genteel  business  which  you  have  pursued.  You  must  not 
make  any  more  flowers,  or  give  any  more  lessons.  The  time 
of  such  degradation  and  humiliation  is  past,  and  my  daughter 
can  no  longer  be  a  school-mistress.  You  have  only  to  write 
the  receipt  to-day,  and  I  will  go  with  you  to  the  treasury  to 
get  the  money." 

"  I  will  not  write  the  receipt,"  said  Marie,  gently  but  firmly. 

Her  mother,  in  the  act  of  rising,  sank  back  upon  the 
divan;  and  the  general,  apparently  quite  occupied  with  his 
leg,  stopped  rubbing,  and  raised  his  red,  bloated  face  to  his 
daughter  in  astonishment.  "  Did  I  understand  rightly  your 
words,  that  you  would  not  write  the  receipt?" 

"Yes,  mother,  I  said  so;  I  cannot  and  will  not  write  it," 
replied  Marie,  gently. 

"  And  why  cannot  you,  and  will  you  not  write  it?"  said  her 
mother,  scornfully. 


THE   KING'S  LETTER.  157 

"  Because  I  have  no  right  to  the  money,  and  cannot  take  it, 
mother,  as  I  will  never  be  the  wife  of  the  man  you  intend  me 
to  marry." 

The  general  sprang  with  a  savage  curse  from  his  arm-chair, 
and  would  have  rushed  to  his  daughter,  but  his  wife  pushed 
him  back  into  his  seat,  and  approached  Marie,  who  rose,  re- 
garding her  mother  with  a  firm,  sad  expression.  "  Why  can 
you  not  be  the  wife  of  the  man  we  have  chosen  for  you  ?  Answer 
me,  why  you  cannot?" 

"  You  know,  mother,"  she  replied,  and  gradually  her  voice 
assumed  a  more  decided  tone,  her  cheeks  reddened,  and  an 
inspired  expression  beamed  from  her  eyes,  and  pervaded  her 
whole  being — "  you  know,  mother,  that  I  can  never  be  the  wife 
of  Herr  Ebenstreit,  for  I  do  not  love  him.  I  despise  and  abom- 
inate him,  because  he  is  a  man  without  honor;  he  knows  that 
I  do  not  love  him,  and  yet  he  insists  upon  marrying  me.  If 
it  were  not  so,  if  I  did  not  despise  and  abominate  him,  I 
would  not  receive  his  suit  and  marry  him. " 

"Why  not?"  cried  the  general,  shaking  his  fist  at  his 
daughter. 

"  Why  not?"  cried  the  mother,  with  a  cold,  icy  glance, 
void  of  pity  or  anger. 

Marie  encountered  these  looks  with  beaming  eyes.  "  Because 
I  am  betrothed  to  another,"  and  the  words  came  like  a  cry  of  joy 
from  her  heart — "  because  I  am  engaged  to  my  beloved  Moritz !" 

•'  Shameless,  obstinate  creature,  have  we  not  forbidden  it?" 
cried  her  father. 

"  Stop!"  interrupted  his  wife,  with  a  commanding  wave  of 
her  hand,  which  silenced  the  obedient  husband  immediately. 
"  It  belongs  to  me  to  question  her,  for  I  am  her  mother,  and 
my  daughter  owes  me  submission  and  obedience  above  all 
things. — Answer  me,  Marie,  did  you  not  know  that  we  had 
fcrbidden  you  to  speak  to  this  man,  or  have  any  communica- 
tion with  him?  Did  you  not  know  that  I,  your  mother,  had 
menaced  you  with  a  curse  if  you  married  this  man,  or  even 
spoke  to  the  miserable,  pitiable  creature?" 


158  OLD  FRm  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 


"Mother,"  cried  Marie,  vehemently,  "he  is  not  a  poor, 
miserable  creature.  You  may  hate  him,  but  you  dare  not 
outrage  the  noble,  the  good,  and  just  man  !" 

"  He  is  a  good-for-nothing  fellow,"  cried  her  father;  "he 
has  tried  to  win  a  minor  behind  the  parents'  back.  He  is  a 
shameful,  good-for-nothing  seducer.  " 

"He  is  dishonorable,"  cried  the  general's  wife  —  "a  dis- 
honorable man,  who  has  misused  our  confidence.  We  con- 
fided to  him  our  daughter  to  teach,  and  paid  him  for  it.  He 
improved  the  opportunity  to  make  a  declaration  of  love,  and 
stole  the  time  from  us  to  infatuate  the  heart  of  our  daughter 
with  flattery,  and  from  his  pupil  win  a  bride." 

"Oh,  unworthy,  shameful  slander!"  cried  Marie,  her  eyes 
flashing  with  anger.  "  You  well  know  that  it  is  a  vile  scan- 
dal, that  Moritz  was  no  paid  teacher.  If  he  had  been  —  if  he 
had  felt  obliged  to  yield  to  the  sad  necessity  of  being  paid 
for  his  valuable  time,  because  he  was  poor,  and  forced  to  live 
by  his  intellect,  he  was  a  free  man,  and  had  the  right  to  love 
whom  he  chose.  He  loves  me,  and  I  have  accepted  his  love 
as  the  most  precious,  most  beautiful,  and  most  glorious  gift 
of  my  life.  Ah!  do  not  look  so  angry  with  me,  father;  I 
cannot  say  otherwise.  I  cannot  crush  or  deny  the  inmost  life 
of  my  life.  —  Oh,  mother,  forgive  me  that  I  cannot  change  it! 
You  know  that  otherwise  I  have  been  a  most  obedient  daugh- 
ter to  you  in  all  things,  although  you  have  never  taught  me 
the  happiness  of  possessing  a  loving  mother  ;  though  neither 
of  you  could  ever  forgive  your  only  child  for  not  being  a  son, 
who  could  inherit  vour  name,  and  win  a  brilliant  position,  yet 
I  have  always  loved  you  tenderly  and  truly,  and  never  com- 
plained that  the  unwelcome  daughter  received  neither  love 
nor  tenderness,  only  indifference  and  coldness  from  her 
parents." 

"Beautiful,  very  beautiful!"  replied  the  mother,  contempt- 
uously. "  Now  you  wish  to  blame  us  that  you  are  a  heartless 
and  thankless  daughter.  —  We  have  not  understood  her  heart, 
and  it  is  our  fault  that  her  love  has  flown  somewhere  else. 


THE  KING'S  LETTER.  159 

This  is  the  language  of  romance.  I  have,  indeed,  read  it  in 
the  romances  of  Herr  Moritz,  and  my  daughter  has  only  re- 
peated what  she  learned  as  a  docile  pupil  from  her  school- 
master. Very  fine,  to  pay  Herr  Moritz  to  form  our  daughter 
into  the  heroine  of  a  romance !  She  ought  to  have  learned 
the  languages,  but  has  learned  only  the  language  of  romances." 

"  You  are  very  severe  and  very  cruel,  mother,"  said  Marie, 
sadly.  "  I  would  not  complain,  only  excuse  myself,  and  im- 
plore pity  and  indulgence,  and  defend  myself  from  the 
reproach  of  having  been  a  cold,  unloving  daughter.  Oh! 
God  knows  how  I  have  longed  for  your  love;  that  I  would 
willingly  prove  that  I  would  joyfully  do  every  thing  to  embel- 
lish your  life  and  make  you  happy.  It  gave  me  such  pleasure 
to  earn  something  for  you  with  my  dear  flowers  and  lessons, 
and  afford  you  a  little  gratification!" 

"Ah!  now,  she  will  reproach  us  with  having  toiled  for  us 
and  sacrificed  herself.  Husband,  thank  yourself  for  the  vic- 
tim who  worked  for  you,  who  gave  her  youth  for  us  that  she 
might  strew  our  life  with  roses." 

"I  have  had  enough  of  this  talking  and  whining,"  cried 
the  general,  furiously  beating  the  table  with  his  fist.  "  My 
daughter  shall  not  be  a  heroine  of  romance,  but  an  obedient 
child,  who  submits  to  the  will  of  her  parents.  You  shall 
marry  the  man  that  we  have  chosen  for  you ;  the  king  has 
given  his  consent,  and  it  shall  take  place.  I  command  you ! 
That  is  sufficient !  I  will  hear  no  more  about  it ;  the  thing  is 
done  with.  Herr  Ebenstreit  is  coming  this  afternoon  to  make 
you  a  proposal  of  marriage  with  our  consent,  and  you  must 
accept  him.  I  command  you  to  do  it!" 

"  I  cannot  obey  you !  Oh,  do  not  force  me  to  rebel  against 
God's  holy  laws!  Have  pity  upon  me!  I  have  obeyed  you 
until  now,  and  yielded  to  your  wishes,  although  I  thought  it 
would  break  my  heart  sometimes.  You  have  forbidden  Mor- 
itz the  house,  and  turned  him  out  of  doors  like  a  servant, 
with  scorn  and  contempt,  and  he  has  silently  borne  it  on  my 
account.  You  have  forbidden  me  to  write  or  receive  letters 


160  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

from  him,  or  ever  to  meet  him.  My  mother  would  curse  me 
if  I  disobeyed  her,  and  I  submitted.  I  have  given  up  every 
thing,  sacrificed  every  wish,  and  renounced  my  love.  But 
yoa  cannot  expect  more  from  me,  or  dare  ask  it.  I  can  forego 
happiness,  but  you  cannot  ask  me  to  consent  to  be  buried 
alive!" 

"And  what  if  we  should  wish  it?"  asked  her  mother.  "If 
we  should  demand  our  daughter  to  give  up  a  romantic,  fool- 
ish love,  to  become  the  wife  of  a  young  man  who  loves  her, 
and  who  loves  us,  and  who  is  rich  enough  to  assure  us  a  com- 
fortable old  age,  free  from  care?" 

"  Marie,"  cried  the  general,  in  a  begging  and  almost  implor- 
ing tone,  "  Marie,  prove  to  us  now  that  you  are  really  a  good 
and  grateful  child — we  have  had  so  much  care  and  want  in 
our  life,  so  many  sorrowful  days!  It  lies  in  your  hands  to 
make  our  declining  days  joyous  and  bright,  and  free  us  from 
want.  We  have  often  grumbled  against  God,  that  He  did 
not  give  us  a  son ;  now  make  us  to  rejoice  that  He  has  given 
us  a  daughter,  who  will  bring  us  a  son  and  inherit  our  name 
through  her  children,  and  who  will  give  us  what  we  have 
never  known — prosperity  and  riches.  I  beg  you,  my  dear, 
good  child,  grant  your  parents  the  few  last  years  of  their  life 
freedom  from  care !" 

"And  I,  Marie,"  said  her  mother,  in  a  softened  and  tender 
tone,  which  Marie  had  never  heard  from  her — "  I  beg  you 
also,  be  a  good  daughter,  pity  your  mother!  I  have  always 
led  a  joyless,  unhappy  life.  I  lived  unmarried,  a  native-born 
countess,  with  proud  relations,  who  made  me  feel  bitterly  my 
dependence ;  when  married  my  existence  was  only  trouble, 
privations,  care,  and  sorrow.  I  beg  you,  Marie,  teach  me  to 
know  happiness,  for  which  I  have  so  longed  in  vain ;  give  me 
independence  and  prosperity,  which  I  have  always  desired, 
and  never  known.  I  pray,  Marie,  make  us  happy  in  bringing 
us  a  rich,  genteel,  and  good  son-in-law,  Herr  Ebenstreit." 

Marie,  who  met  the  scorn  and  threats  of  her  mother  with 
firmness  and  a  proud  demeanor,  trembled  as  she  heard  these 


HATE  AND  LOVE.  161 

severe  and  merciless  lips,  always  so  cold  and  harsh,  now  beg- 
ging and  imploring.  At  first  she  was  quite  frightened,  and 
then  terrified,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  her  head 
sinking  upon  her  breast  as  her  mother  spoke. 

"  Speak,  my  daughter,"  cried  the  general,  as  his  wife  was 
silent.  "  Speak,  my  dear  Marie.  Say  the  word,  and  we  shall 
be  all  happy,  and  there  will  be  no  happier  family  found  in 
Berlin,  or  the  world  even.  Say  that  you  will  marry  Eben- 
streit,  and  we  will  love  and  bless  you  so  long  as  we  live.  Do 
say  yes,  dear  Marie !" 

Her  hands  fell  from  her  face,  and  stretching  them  out 
toward  her  parents,  she  looked  at  them  in  despair. 

There  was  a  fearful  pause.  "I  cannot,  it  is  impossible!" 
she  shrieked.  "  I  cannot  marry  this  man,  for  I  do  not  lovs 
him.  I  love  another,  whom  I  can  never  forget,  whom  I 
shall  love  forever.  I  love — " 

"  Herr  Conrector  Moritz!"  announced  Trude,  hastily  burst- 
ing open  the  door,  and  looking  in  with  a  triumphant  smile. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

HATE  AND   LOVE. 

"  HERR  CORRECTOR  MORITZ  wishes  to  pay  his  respects," 
called  out  Trude  again. 

"  We  do  not  wish  to  receive  him,"  cried  Frau  von  Werrig. 

"He  dare  not  presume  to  enter!"  shrieked  the  general. 

Marie  cried,  "Moritz!  Oh!  my  beloved  Moritz,"  rushing 
with  outstretched  arms  toward  her  lover,  who  just  appeared 
at  the  door.  "  God  has  sent  you  to  sustain  me  in  this  fearful 
hour." 

Old  Trude  peeped  through  the  half-closed  door,  well  satis- 
fied to  see  her  dear  young  lady  folded  in  Moritz's  arms,  and 
her  head  leaning  upon  his  shoulder.  "  Yes,"  she  murmured, 
closing  softly  the  door,  "  Marie  is  right,  God  himself  sent  her 


162  OLD  FKITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

lover  in  this  hour,  and  I  would  not  let  her  wicked,  hard- 
hearted parents  send  him  away." 

Quick  as  thought  she  turned  the  key,  fastening  the  door, 
and  betook  herself  to  the  farthest  room,  carefully  closing 
every  door  between  them.  "  Now  we  will  see  for  once  whether 
they  will  show  him  the  door,  and  pitch  him  out.  No,  they 
will  be  obliged  to  listen  to  him.  Old  Trude  wishes  it,  for  it 
will  make  her  dear  Marie  happy.  It  is  all  the  same  to  me  if 
the  old  German  tries  to  scratch  my  eyes  out  for  it ;  I  will  take 
good  care  to  keep  out  of  his  way.  I  must  go  and  listen  once." 

She  put  her  ear  to  the  keyhole,  and  then  her  eye,  to  see 
how  the  quarrellers  looked. 

At  first  the  general  and  his  wife  were  quite  alarmed,  and 
almost  speechless  as  they  witnessed  the  joyful  meeting  of  the 
lovers.  The  father  sprang  up  suddenly,  with  clinched  fist, 
but  intsead  of  bitter  invectives  only  a  fearful  shriek  of  pain 
was  heard,  as  he  sank  groaning  and  whimpering  into  his  arm- 
chair. The  gout  had  again  seized  its  victim.  Anger  had  ex- 
cited the  general's  blood,  and  had  also  brought  on  the  pain  in 
his  leg  again.  His  wife  took  no  notice  of  his  cries  and 
groans,  for  it  was  quite  as  agreeable  to  her  to  be  the  only 
speaker,  and  have  her  moaning  husband  a  kind  of  assenting 
chorus.  "Leave  each  other!"  she  commanded,  as  she  ap- 
proached the  lovers,  flourishing  her  long  shrivelled  arms 
about.  "  Leave  each  other,  and  leave  my  house!" 

Laying  her  hand  on  Marie's  arm,  which  was  thrown  around 
her  lover's  neck,  she  endeavored  to  tear  her  away,  and  draw 
her  daughter  toward  herself.  But  Marie  clung  only  the  more 
firmly,  and  Moritz  pressed  her  more  fervently  to  his  heart. 
They  heeded  not  arid  heard  not  the  outburst  of  anger  which 
the  mother  gave  way  to.  They  read  in  each  other's  eyes  the 
bliss,  the  joy  of  meeting  again,  and  the  assurance  of  constant, 
imperishable  love. 

"  You  are  pale  and  thin,  my  beloved !" 

"Sorrow  for  you  is  consuming  me,  Marie,  but,  thank 
Heaven,  you  are  unchanged,  and  beautiful  as  ever!" 


HATE  AND  LOVE.  163 

"  Hope  and  love  have  consoled  and  strengthened  me, 
Philip." 

"Enough!  I  forbid  you  to  speak  another  word  to  each 
other,"  and  with  the  power  which  rage  lends,  the  mother  tore 
Marie  away.  "  Herr  Moritz,  will  you  tell  me  by  what  right 
you  force  yourself  into  our  house,  and  surprise  us  like  a  street- 
thief  in  our  peaceful  dwelling?  But  no!  you  need  not  tell 
me,  I  will  not  listen  to  you.  Those  who  permit  themselves  to 
enter  our  room  unasked  and  unwelcomed — I  will  have  nothing 
to  say  to  them.  Leave!  there  is  the  door!  Out  with  you,  off 
the  threshold!" 

With  calm  demeanor,  Moritz  now  approached  Frau  von 
Werrig,  demanding  her  pardon,  saying :  "  You  see,  ma- 
dame,  that  I  am  not  so  unwelcome  here,  therefore  you  will  be 
obliged  to  let  me  remain." 

"Yes,  that  she  will,"  sneered  Trade,  outside  the  door. 
"  It  will  be  difficult  for  her  to  send  him  off  so  long  as  I  am 
unwilling." 

"  No,  I  will  not  permit  it.  We  have  nothing  to  do  with 
each  other.  Out  of  my  sight! — Away!" 

"  Away !"  cried  the  general.  "  Oh,  the  gout,  the  madden- 
ing pains!  I  cannot  throw  the  bold  fellow  out  of  the  house! 
I  must  lie  here,  and  writhe  like  a  worm !  I  cannot  be  master 
of  my  house.  Oh,  oh!  what  pain!" 

"Stay,  Philip,"  whispered  Marie,  as  she  again  leaned 
toward  Moritz.  "  They  wish  to  sell  me  and  force  me  to  a 
hated  marriage.  Do  not  yield!  save  me!" 

"  You  are  mine,  Marie ;  you  have  sworn  to  me  eternal  con- 
stancy, and  no  one  can  compel  you  to  marry  if  you  do  not 
wish  to." 

"We  are  her  parents;  we  can,  and  we  will  compel  her," 
triumphantly  cried  Frau  von  Werrig.  "  The  king  has  given 
his  consent,  and  if  it  is  necessary  we  will  drag  her  to  the  altar 
by  force!" 

"Do  it,  mother,  and  I  will  say  no  before  all  the  world." 

"  We  will  take  care  that  no  one  hears  you  but  the  priest, 


164  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

and  he  will  not  listen,  as  he  knows  that  the  king  has  com- 
manded you  to  say  yes!  " 

"  But  God  will  hear  her,  Frau  von  Werrig,  and  He  will  take 
vengeance  on  the  cruel,  heartless  mother." 

"I  will  await  this  vengeance,"  she  sneered.  "It  does  not 
concern  you,  and  you  need  not  trouble  yourself  about  it. 
Leave  the  house!" 

"  I  came  here  to  speak  with  you,  and  I  will  not  go  away 
until  you  have  listened  to  me. " 

"  Then  /  will  leave,  for  I  will  not  hear  you,  and  I  command 
you  to  follow  me,  Marie!" 

She  seized  Marie  with  irresistible  force,  and  drew  her 
toward  the  side  door,  which  was  fast.  Then  hurried  toward 
the  entrance,  dragging  her  daughter  after  her,  but  shook  it 
in  vain  ;  that  door  was  fastened  also. 

"Oh!  I  could  kiss  myself,"  murmured  Trude,  as  she  patted 
her  old,  wrinkled  cheeks.  "  I  was  as  cunning  and  wise  as 
Solomon.  There,  shriek  for  Trude,  order  her  to  open  it. 
Trade  is  not  there,  and  she  has  no  ears  for  you!" 

"This  is  a  plot — a  shameful  plot!"  cried  Frau  von  Werrig, 
stamping  her  feet.  "  That  good-for-nothing  creature,  Trude, 
is  in  it.  She  has  locked  the  doors,  and  the  schoolmaster  paid 
her  for  it." 

Trude  shook  her  fist  at  her  mistress  behind  the  door. 
"  "Wait !  that  good-for-nothing  creature  will  punish  you !  You 
shall  have  something  to  be  angry  about  with  me  every  day." 

"  I  swear  to  you  that  I  do  not  know  who  locked  the  doors," 
replied  Moritz,  calmly.  "  But  whoever  did  it,  I  thank  them 
from  the  depths  of  my  soul,  for  it  forces  you  to  listen  to  me, 
and  may  love  give  my  words  the  power  to  soften  your  heartJ 
General  and  Frau  von  Werrig,  I  conjure  you  to  have  compas 
sion  upon  us.  Is  it  possible  that  you  are  deaf  to  the  cry  of 
grief  of  your  own  child?" 

Suddenly  assuming  a  contemptuous  calm,  Frau  von  Werrig 
sank  back  upon  the  divan  with  great  dignity.  "  As  I  am 
obliged  to  listen  to  you,  through  a  shameful  deception,  let  it 


HATE  AND  LOVE.  165 

be  so.  Try  to  make  ears  in  my  heart,  which  you  say  is  deaf. 
Let  me  listen  to  your  wonderful  eloquence!" 

"Oh,  Philip!"  said  Marie,  clasping  his  arms,  "you  see  it 
will  all  be  in  vain." 

"  Let  me  hope  to  succeed  in  awakening  a  spark  of  loving 
mercy,  as  Moses  caused  the  fountain  to  gush  from  the  rock. — 
A  year  since  you  turned  me  insultingly  from  your  door,  Frau 
von  Werrig,  and  you  forbade  me  with  scorn  and  contempt  to 
ever  cross  your  threshold.  In  the  rebellious  pride  of  my  heart 
I  swore  never  to  do  it  again,  never  to  speak  to  those  who  had 
so  inj  ured  me.  The  holy,  pure  love  which  binds  me  to  this 
dear  girl  has  released  me  from  my  oath.  We  have  tried  to 
live  separated  from  each  other  a  long  year,  an  inconsolable, 
unhappy  year !  We  hoped  to  renounce  each  other,  although 
we  could  not  forget.  Marie,  as  an  obedient  daughter,  obeyed 
your  commands,  and  returned  the  ring,  which  I  gave  her  in 
a  moment  of  affection  and  holy  trust.  I  released  her  from 
the  oath  of  constancy,  and  made  her  free !  But  it  is  in  vain ! 
During  this  year  I  have  striven  with  sorrow  as  a  man,  helpless 
in  a  desert,  who  writhes  in  the  folds  of  the  poisonous  serpent. 
I  should  have  gone  mad  if  a  consoling  word  from  a  great  and 
noble  mind  had  not  roused  me  from  my  desolation,  and  if 
love  had  not  shed  a  ray  of  light  into  my  benighted  soul.  1 
listened  no  longer  to  sickening  pride  and  humbled  sense  of 
honor.  Love  commanded  me  to  come  here,  and  I  came  to  ask 
you,  Marie,  in  the  presence  of  your  parents,  if  you  will  be  my 
wife;  if  you  will  accept  my  poor,  insignificant  name,  and  be 
contented  by  my  side  to  lead  a  quiet,  modest  existence.  I 
can  only  earn  sufficient  to  assure  us  a  peaceful  life.  I  have 
no  splendor,  no  treasures  to  offer  you,  but  only  my  love,  my 
heart,  my  life,  my  whole  thought  and  being.  Will  you  ac- 
cept it,  Marie?" 

"  I  do  accept  it,  Moritz,  as  the  greatest  happiness  of  my 
life.  I  desire  only  your  love,  and  I  can  return  only  my  love 
to  you!  Here  is  my  hand,  Philip,  it  belongs  to  you  alone! 
Let  us  kneel  in  humility  before  my  parents,  and  implore  their 


166  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

blessing. — Oh,  my  father  and  mother,  have  pity  upon  us! 
See  this  dear  man,  to  whom  my  whole  heart  belongs.  I  de- 
sire only  to  live  and  toil  with  him.  There  are  no  riches,  no 
treasures,  to  compare  with  his  love !" 

"  General  and  Frau  von  Werrig,  grant  me  the  wife  of  my 
heart!"  cried  Philip  Moritz,  deeply  moved.  "It  is  true,  I 
am  not  worthy  of  her,  I  have  no  name,  no  position,  to  offer 
her,  but  I  swear  to  strive  to  gain  it  for  her.  I  will  win  by 
my  talents  and  knowledge  a  distinguished  name,  and  perhaps 
one  day  you  will  concede  to  my  fame  that  I  am  a  noble  man, 
though  not  a  nobleman.  "Will  you  separate  two  hearts  which 
belong  to  each  other?  Take  me  for  your  son-in-law,  and  I 
swear  to  be  devoted  and  faithful,  to  love  and  honor  you  for 
your  daughter's  sake.  I  can  say  no  more — words  cannot  ex- 
press all  that  I  feel.  Love  causes  me  to  kneel  before  you,  love 
makes  me  humble  as  a  child.  I  implore  you  to  give  me  your 
daughter  in  marriage." 

"I  also  implore  you,"  cried  Marie,  sinking  down  beside 
Moritz,  "  give  to  me  this  man,  whom  I  love  and  honor,  for 
my  husband." 

It  was  a  beautiful  and  impressive  scene — these  two  young 
beings  pleading  for  happiness ;  their  eyes  flashing  with  the 
inspiration  of  feeling,  conscious  that  they  were  one  in  affec- 
tion, and  ready  to  combat  the  whole  world  for  each  other. 
But  Frau  von  Werrig  was  immovable,  and  the  general  was  too 
much  occupied  with  his  gouty,  throbbing  leg  even  to  cast  a 
look  upon  the  beautiful  group  of  youth,  love,  manly  deter- 
mination, and  tender  resignation. 

Outside  the  door,  Trude  knelt  imploringly,  with  folded 
hands,  while  the  tears  ran  down  her  old  cheeks  in  big  drops. 
"  0  God,  I  well  know  that  they  have  no  pity ;  have  mercy 
Thou,  and  cause  my  dear  Marie  to  be  happy!  Suffer  not  that 
that  hard-hearted  woman  should  sell  her,  and  marry  her  to 
that  bad  man  my  Marie  despises.  I  well  know  that  I  am  a 
poor  creature,  and  not  worthy  that  Thou  shouldst  listen  to 
me,  0  Lord !  But  I  love  that  young  girl  as  if  she  were  my 


HATE  AND  LOVE.  167 

own  child,  and  I  would  give  my  heart's  blood  for  her.  Oh, 
my  God!  I  implore  Thee  to  let  my  Marie  be  happy!"  Then 
she  continued,  as  she  rose  from  her  knees.  "  Now,  I  have 
spoken,  and  I  commit  every  thing  to  God,  and  He  will  do 
what  is  best.  She  has  been  obliged  to  listen  to  him,  and  if  it 
cannot  be  otherwise,  he  must  go." 

Carefully  old  Trude  unlocked  both  doors,  and  then  stopped 
to  listen. 

Trude  was  right,  there  was  no  mercy  in  Frau  von  Werrig's 
•heart.  "Have  you  finished?  Have  you  any  thing  more  to 
say?"  she  asked,  in  her  most  unsympathizing  manner. 

"  Nothing  more  with  our  lips,  but  our  hearts  still  implore 
you." 

"  I  do  not  understand  this  language,  sir,  and  you  have  not 
succeeded  in  giving  me  hearing,  or  ears  to  hear  with.  In 
this  useless  strife  I  will  say  a  last  word,  which  I  hope  will  be 
for  life.  You  shall  never  be  the  husband  of  my  daughter! 
You  can  never  be  united." 

Marie  and  Moritz  sprang  from  their  knees,  laying  their 
hands  in  each  other's,  and  looked  what  words  could  not  have 
better  expressed — "  "We  are  inseparable,  nothing  can  disunite 
us  but  death!" 

"I  desire  you  not  to  interrupt  me,"  commanded  Frau  von 
Werrig;  "I  have  listened  to  you,  and  now  you  shall  listen  to 
me.  I  promise  you  to  speak  with  more  brevity  than  you 
have.  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  useless  phrases  and  tedious 
lamentations.  I  will  speak  to  the  point.  Marie  is  the 
daughter  of  General  Werrig  von  Leuthen,  whose  name  would 
become  extinct  if  the  grace  and  favor  of  the  king  had  not 
prevented  it,  by  permitting  the  husband  whom  we  have  chosen 
for  our  daughter  to  take  our  name,  and  therewith  become  our 
son.  You  may  think,  in  your  arrogance  of  commoner,  and 
the  pride  you  take  in  having  won  the  love  of  the  daughter  of 
General  von  Leuthen,  that  you  could  be  this  husband  and 
son-in-law.  But  two  things  fail  you:  first,  the  necessary 
fortune;  and,  secondly,  the  king's  consent,  and  that  of  her 


168  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

father.  If  you  were  rich,  it  might  be  possible  that  we  should 
be  touched  by  the  tender  amorousness  of  our  daughter,  and 
conquer  our  aversion  to  you  for  her  sake.  You  are  of  low 
birth,  and  take  a  subordinate  position  in  society.  It  would 
be  extremely  laughable  for  the  schoolmaster  Moritz  to  change 
suddenly  into  a  Herr  von  Werrig  Leuthen.  Our  son-in-law 
must  be  a  rich  man,  in .  order  to  be  able  to  give  his  new  title 
consideration ;  and,  fortunately,  the  wooer  of  my  daughter's 
hand  possesses  this  qualification,  and  therefore  we  have  given 
our  consent.  The  king  has  approved  our  choice,  and 
permits  the  rich  banker  Ludwig  Ebenstreit  to  become  our  son- 
in-law,  and  take  our  name.  The  king  has  in  this  communi- 
cation, which  lies  upon  the  table,  and  which  Marie  has  heard 
read,  given  his  assurance  to  ennoble  Ebenstreit  upon  two  con- 
ditions :  first,  that  the  banker  should  give  up  his  business, 
and  live  upon  his  income ;  and,  secondly,  that  the  marriage 
should  not  take  place  until  the  papers  of  nobility  are  made 
out  and  published,  so  that  the  daughter  of  General  von  Wer- 
rig should  not  make  a  misalliance.  You  know  all  now,  and 
you  will  at  last  understand  that  there  is  but  one  thing  for  you 
to  do — conquer  your  foolish  presumption,  and  beg  to  be  ex- 
cused for  your  unheard-of  boldness  in  forcing  yourself  into 
our  house,  and  then  withdraw  quickly.  If  my  ear  does  not 
deceive  me,  your  accomplice  has  opened  the  doors.  I  think  I 
heard  rightly,  if  my  heart  has  no  ears,  my  head  possesses  bet- 
ter. We  have  finished.  I  would  again  enjoin  upon  you  the 
duty  of  begging  for  pardon,  and  then  I  close  this  unrefreshing 
scene  with  the  same  words  with  which  it  opened — there  is  the 
door — go  out!" 

"Yes,  there  is  the  door — go  out  of  it!  I  want  to  be 
quiet — go !  My  daughter  is  the  betrothed  of  the  rich  banker 
Herr  Ebenstreit;  she  will  be  his  wife  as  soon  as  the  papers 
are  made  out  and  published. — Go!"  cried  the  general. 

The  young  couple  still  stood  there,  hand  in  hand,  looking 
at  the  general,  until  now  their  eyes  met,  beaming  with  ten- 
derest  affection  for  each  other.  "Is  it  true,  Marie?  Speak, 


HATE  AND  LOVE.  169 

my  beloved,  is  it  true,  will  you  be  the  wife  of  this  rich  man 
whom  your  parents  have  chosen  for  you?" 

"No,  Philip,"  she  calmly  and  firmly  replied.  "No,  I  will 
not,  for  I  do  not  love  him,  I  love  only  you;  and  here,  in  the 
presence  of  God  and  my  parents,  I  swear  to  you  that  I  will  be 
constant  to  death!  They  can  prevent  my  becoming  your 
wife,  but  they  cannot  force  me  to  wed  another.  I  swear, 
then,  that  if  I  cannot  be  yours,  I  will  never  marry!" 

"I  receive  your  oath,  and  God  has  heard  it  also!"  said 
Moritz,  solemnly. 

"I  have  also  heard  it,  and  I  tell  you,"  said  Frau  von  Wer- 
rig,  "  that  this  romantic  heroine  will  become  a  perjurer,  for 
I  will  find  means  to  make  her  break  her  silly  oath." 

"  We  will,  perhaps,  find  means  to  delay  the  marriage,"  said 
Moritz,  proudly,  "  or,  much  more,  prevent  the  marriage  cere- 
mony." 

"I  am  very  curious  to  know  the  means,"  said  Frau  von 
Werrig.  "  From  this  hour  Marie  is  the  betrothed  of  Herr 
Ebenstreit,  and  the  wedding  will  take  place  so  soon — " 

"  So  soon  as  the  title  of  nobility  is  published.  That  is  it, 
that  is  the  clause  to  be  filled ;  and  therefore  I  tell  you,  be- 
loved, wait  and  hope !  This  woman  is  without  pity  and  with- 
out mercy;  but  God  is  in  heaven,  and  Frederick  the  Great 
on  the  earth.  Wait  and  hope.  Be  firm  in  hope,  and  con- 
stant in  love.  Do  not  lose  courage,  and  let  them  force  you  to 
compliance  by  threats  and  anger.  I  have  only  you  to  confide 
in  and  to  love  in  the  world,  and  you  are  my  hope,  my  goal, 
and  the  happiness  of  my  life.  If  you  forsake  me,  I  lose  my 
good  angel,  and  am  a  lost,  miserable  man,  whom  it  would  be 
better  to  hurl  into  the  deepest  abyss  than  let  him  suffer  the 
torments  of  hated  existence.  The  knowledge  of  your  love 
gives  me  strength  and  courage ;  it  will  inspire  me  to  fight  like 
a  hero,  to  win  the  dear,  beloved  wife,  to  whom  I  would  yield 
my  life  in  order  to  receive  it  anew  from  her  purified  and  sanc- 
tified. The  knowledge  that  I  had  lost  you,  would  ruin  me." 

Laying  both  hands  upon  his  shoulder,  Marie  looked  at  him 
12 


170  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

with  eyes  beaming  with  affection,  renewing  her  vow  that  she 
would  never  love  or  marry  another.  "  We  will  be  courageous 
in  hope,  and  brave  in  constancy.  Listen  to  me,  my  beloved ; 
listen,  my  mother — I  betrothed  myself  to  this  dear  man! 
You  can  prevent  my  becoming  his  wife  now,  but  in  four  years 
I  am  of  age,  and  then  I  shall  be  my  own  mistress.  Then,  my 
dear  Philip,  I  will  be  your  wife.  Let  us  wait  and  hope!" 

"Yes,  Marie,  we  will  wait  and  hope. — Farewell!  Do  not 
forget  that  there  is  a  great  God  in  heaven,  and  a  great  king 
upon  earth. — Farewell!" 

He  pressed  the  hand  clasped  in  his  own  passionately  to  his 
lips,  and  felt  from  the  pressure  of  her  delicate  fingers  a  re- 
newed vow  of  constancy.  Buoyed  with  this  hope  in  the  sad 
hour  of  parting,  they  were  happy  and  joyful.  Marie  accom- 
panied him  to  the  door — still  hand  in  hand. 

"Presume  not  to  go  a  step  farther,"  commanded  her 
mother,  and  Marie,  obedient  to  her  wishes,  remained  near  the 
door,  bowed  to  Moritz,  and  never  ceased  to  regard  him,  with 
love  beaming  in  her  eyes,  until  the  door  closed.  Outside 
stood  old  Trude,  to  tell  him  that  she  would  be  at  the  baker's 
at  seven  o'clock  every  morning,  and  wait  for  his  commissions, 
"and  may  be  I  shall  have  something  to  bring  you,"  she  said. 
"So  do  come!" 

"  I  will,  my  good  Trude ;  you  are  the  only  person  who  is 
friendly  to  us.  Watch  over  my  angel,  console  her  with  your 
affection,  and  when  they  are  too  hard  upon  her,  come  to  me. " 

"I  surely  will,  but  listen — they  are  already  quarrelling 
with  my  good  angel.  I  will  go  in,  to  serve  as  a  lightning-rod 
for  dear  Marie.  I  often  do  it,  and  it  pleases  me  when  the 
lightning  strikes,  and  dashes  my  hard  old  head  to  the  ground, 
but  does  not  hurt  me  at  all. — Farewell,  Herr  Moritz,  the 
lightning-rod  must  go  in." 

Trude  entered  suddenly  and  noiselessly  the  sitting-room, 
and  interrupted  the  angry  reproaches  which  Frau  von  Werrig 
hurled  against  Marie  in  a  furious  stream  of  words.  The 
countess's  rage  turned  against  Trude,  who  stared  as  if  to 


HATE  AND  LOVE.  171 

challenge  her.  ""What  do  you  want?  How  dare  you  enter 
uncalled?" 

"  I  thought  you  were  calling  deaf  old  Trude,  or  why  did 
yon  scream  so?"  replied  Trude,  tartly. 

"  Perhaps  it  was  the  general.  Ah !  there  lies  the  poor,  dear 
old  man,  groaning  and  crying,  and  nobody  has  any  pity  for 
him." 

"Ah!  Trude,  it  is  good  luck  that  you  are  here,"  whined 
the  general.  "  No  one  troubles  himself  about  me.  Quick, 
bring  warm  covering  for  my  leg,  the  pain  is  fearful!" 

"  Poor,  dear  father,  I  will  take  care  of  you,  I  will  nurse 
you,"  said  Marie,  hastening  to  him.  Her  mother  pushed  her 
back  violently.  "  Not  a  step  farther ;  you  have  no  right  to 
go  near  him,  you  are  his  murderess.  On  your  head  will  fall 
the  guilt,  if  these  dreadful  scenes  should  cause  his  death." 

"No,  no,  the  general  will  not  die  quite  yet,"  said  Trude 
busying  herself  about  his  arm-chair.  "But,  Fraulein,  you 
have  got  something  else  to  do  than  stay  here.  They  have 
already  sent  for  the  flowers  twice,  and  the  French  lady  is 
waiting  up-stairs  to  parlez-vous." 

Marie  looked  her  friendly  thanks,  and  quietly  and  quickly 
left  the  room. 

"  Now,  bold  woman,  I  have  a  last  word  to  say  to  you.  Who 
locked  the  door  when  that  creature  came?" 

"/,  madame,"  answered  Trude,  who  was  just  bringing  a 
great  cushion  from  the  back-room  to  cover  the  general's  feet. 

"  You  acknowledge  that  you  locked  the  door  intentionally?" 

"  Now,  my  dear,  good  Frau  von  Werrig,  one  does  not  lock 
a  door  by  mistake.  I  did  not  want  Herr  Moritz  to  run  away 
with  fright,  before  you  had  given  him  your  mind,  and  set  his 
head  straight.  He  would  certainly  have  escaped,  and  only 
heard  the  half  of  your  beautiful  talk,  for  he  had  no  idea  what 
a  miserable  fellow  he  is.  So  I  locked  both  doors,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  listen  to  you,  and  has  gone  away  contrite  and  re- 
pentant. There,  there,  my  poor,  dear  general,  is  your  foot 
high  enough?  Shall  I  not  bring  the  foot- warmer?" 


172  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE   NEW  ERA. 

"  You  shall  not  bring  any  thing,  nor  do  any  thing  more. 
You  are  a  hypocrite,  who  connives  with  Moritz.  Leave  my 
house  this  very  hour!  You  are  dismissed  my  service.  Go 
pack  up  your  things  and  be  off!"  cried  Frau  von  Werrig. 

"  Oh,  do  not  go,  Trude,  for  mercy's  sake,  for  then  I  have 
no  one  to  help  me,"  cried  the  general. 

"I  cannot  do  otherwise,  she  has  given  me  my  dismissal." 
Trude  approached  Frau  von  Werrig  respectfully,  saying,  "  So 
I  must  pack  up  and  go  away  at  once?" 

"  Immediately,  you  deceitful  creature !" 

"  Immediately !  but  Frau  von  Werrig  will  be  so  good  as  to 
give  me  my  wages." 

"Yes,"  she  answered  in  a  slower  and  more  subdued  voice. 
"  That  shall  be  done  presently." 

"  It  will  not  be  so  very  difficult  to  reckon  them,  I  have  been 
here  twenty  years;  just  as  many  years  as  Marie  is  old,  for  I 
came  as  child's  nurse,  and  have  helped  her  learn  to  talk  and 
walk,  and  played  mother  to  the  dear  child  a  bit.  Then  I 
obtained  my  wages,  for  they  were  good  times ;  but  the  pension- 
time  came,  and  we  had  no  cook  or  servant  but  me.  'The  rats 
run  away  if  the  ship  springs  a  leak, '  but  the  old  mole  Trude 
stayed.  Mankind  is  in  the  world  to  work,  I  said,  and  why 
should  not  I  be  the  cook  and  waiting-maid  too,  that  my  little 
Marie  should  not  want  any  thing?  So  I  became  maid-of -all- 
work  and  have  stayed  here  ever  since.  Then,  you  told  me  you 
would  double  my  wages,  and  give  me  twenty  thalers  a  year,  and 
four  thalers  at  Christmas.  Is  it  not  so,  Frau  von  Werrig?" 

"  I  believe  that  was  the  agreement." 

"  I  am  quite  certain  about  it,"  cried  the  general,  who  began 
to  understand  the  drift  of  Trude.  "  Yes,  Trude  was  to  have 
twenty  thalers  a  year,  and  we  are  owing  her  many  years' 
wages.  You  know,  wife,  I  have  always  kept  an  account-book 

for  the  debts,  and  only  a  few  days  ago Oh !  oh !  the  pain ! 

Trude,  help  me  cover  up  the  foot  warmer! — we  reckoned  it 
up  a  few  days  ago,  and  we  owe  Trude  one  hundred  and  thirty 
thalers." 


CHARLES  AUGUSTUS  AND  GOETHE.  173 

"One  hundred  and  thirty  thalers,"  repeated  Trude,  clap- 
ping her  hands,  astonished.  "Is  it  true?  oh,  that  is  splen- 
did. I  shall  be  rich,  and  get  a  husband  yet.  I  pray  you  give 
it  to  me,  Frau  von  Werrig,  right  away." 

"Not  so  quickly,"  said  she,  proudly.  "We  will  reckon 
together  how  much  you  have  saved — because — " 

"  Oh!"  interrupted  Trude,  "how  good  you  are  to  make  me 
keep  so  much ;  you  are  my  savings  bank,  where  I  can  deposit 
my  money." 

"  Because,"  she  continued,  with  emphasis,  without  noticing 
the  interruption,  "  our  future  son-in-law  will  pay  your  wages, 
the  rich  banker,  Herr  Ebenstreit.  Yes,  the  wealthy  lover  of 
our  daughter.  At  the  moment  I  have  not  so  much  cash  in 
the  house." 

"  Your  grace  will  allow  me  to  stay  until  Herr  Ebenstreit  is 
married,  and,  in  your  name,  pays  me  my  wages?" 

"Yes,  Trude,  I  will  allow  you  to  stay,"  she  replied,  very 
graciously.  "  You  will  be  cunning,  Trude,  if  you  try  to  per- 
suade Marie  to  accept  the  rich  suitor,  for  when  she  does  I  will 
give  you  two  hundred  thalers." 

"  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  get  it.  Can  I  remain  here  until 
Marie  is  married?" 

"  Yes,  you  have  my  permission  for  that. " 

"  I  thank  you,  Frau  von  Werrig.  Now,  general,  I  will 
bring  you  some  warm  coverings  right  away. 


CHAPTEK    XVI. 

CHARLES   AUGUSTUS   AND   GOETHE. 

"Now  tell  me,  Wolf,"  asked  Duke  Charles  Augustus, 
stretching  himself  comfortably  on  the  sofa,  puffing  clouds  of 
smoke  from  his  pipe — "  are  you  not  weary  of  dawdling  about 
in  this  infamously  superb  pile  of  stones,  called  Berlin?  Shall 
we  any  longer  elegantly  scrap-1  to  the  right  and  to  the  left, 


174  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

with  abominable  sweet  speeches  and  mere  flattering  phrase- 
ology, in  this  monster  of  dust  and  stone,  of  sand  and  sun, 
parades  and  gaiters?  Have  you  not  enough  of  blustering 
generals,  of  affected  women  ?  and  of  running  about  the  streets 
like  one  possessed  to  see  here  a  miserable  church,  or  there  a 
magnificent  palace?  Are  you  not  weary  of  crawling  about  as 
one  of  the  many,  while  at  home  you  stride  about  as  the  only 
one  of  the  many?  And  weary  also  of  seeing  your  friend  and 
pupil  Carl  August  put  off  with  fair  promises  and  hollow 
speeches  like  an  insignificant,  miserable  mortal,  without  being 
able  to  answer  with  thundering  invectives.  Ah !  breath  fails 
me.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  load  a  pistol  with  myself,  and  with 
a  loud  report  shoot  over  to  dear  Weimar.  "Wolf,  do  talk,  I 
beg  you,  I  am  tired  out;  answer  me." 

"I  reply,  I  shoot,  my  dear  Carl,"  cried  Goethe,  laughing. 
"  I  was  out  of  breath  myself  from  that  long  speech.  Was  it 
original  with  my  dear  prince,  or  did  he  memorize  it  from 
Klinger's  great  '  Sturm-und-Drang'  tragedy?  It  reminded 
me  of  it." 

"Do  you  mean  to  accuse  me  of  plagiarism,  wicked  fellow? 
I  grant  that  you  are  right,  my  cunning  Wolf,  it  was  a  lapsus. 
I  did  think  of  Klinger,  and  I  sympathized  with  his  youthful 
hero  Wild,  who  declared  that,  among  the  sweetest  pleasures, 
he  would  like  to  be  stretched  over  a  drum,  or  exist  in  a  pistol- 
barrel,  the  hand  ready  to  blow  him  into  tne  air." 

Goethe  shoved  aside  the  breakfast-table,  straightened  his 
delicate  form,  with  his  noble  head  proudly  erect,  and  one  foot 
in  advance,  extended  his  right  arm,  giving  one  loud  hurrah! 
"  Now,  for  once,  a  tumult  and  noise,  that  thought  may  turn 
about  like  a  weathercock.  This  savage  noise  has  already 
wrought  its  own  benefit.  I  begin  to  feel  a  little  better.  Eage 
and  expand,  mad  heart,  quicken  yourself  in  hurly-burly — 
burly-burly!"  * 

"Bravo!  bravo!"  laughed  the  duke.  "Is  that  Klinger, 
or  who  is  it  that  refreshes  himself  in  hurly-burly?" 

*  From  Klinger's  tragedy  "  Sturm  und  Drang." 


CHARLES  AUGUSTUS  AND  GOETHE.       175 

"  It  is  I  who  am  every  thing,"  replied  Goethe,  striding  and 
swaggering  up  and  down.  "  I  was  an  assistant,  in  order  to 
be  something — lived  upon  the  Alps,  tended  the  goats,  lay  under 
the  vault  of  heaven  day  and  night,  refreshed  by  the  cool  pas- 
tures, and  burned  with  the  inward  fire.  No  peace,  no  rest 
anywhere.  See,  I  swell  with  power  and  health!  I  cannot 
waste  myself  away.  I  would  take  part  in  the  campaign  here; 
then  can  my  soul  expand,  and  if  they  do  me  the  service  to 
shoot  me  down,  well  and  good!"  * 

"Bravo!  Wild,  bravo!"  cried  the  duke.  "Hei!  that 
thundered  and  rolled,  and  struck  fire !  It  does  me  good  to 
hear  such  vigorous  words  from  an  able  rare  genius  in  the 
midst  of  this  miserable,  starched  elegance.  The  powerful 
Germans  are  healthy  fellows.  Something  of  the  Promethean 
fire  blazes  forth  in  them.  They  were  forced  to  come,  those 
jolly,  uproarious  boys,  after  the  affected  cue  period;  they 
were  the  full,  luxurious  plants,  and  my  Wolfgang,  the  favorite 
of  my  heart,  my  poet  and  teacher,  is  the  divine  blossom  of 
this  plant.  Let  them  prevail,  these  'Sturmer  und  Dranger,' 
for  they  are  the  fathers  and  brothers  of  my  Wolfgang.  Do 
me  the  sole  pleasure  not  to  refine  yourself  too  much,  but  let 
this  divine  fire  burst  forth  in  volcanic  flames,  and  leave  the 
thundering  crater  uncovered.  Sometimes  when  I  see  you  so 
simpering,  so  modest  and  ceremonious,  I  ask  myself,  with 
anxiety,  if  it  is  the  same  Wolfgang  Goethe,  who  used  to  drink 
'Smollis'  with  me  at  merry  bacchanals  out  of  death-skulls? — 
the  same  with  whom  I  used  to  practise  whip-cracking  upon 
the  market-place  hours  long,  to  the  terror  of  the  good  citi- 
zens?— the  same  who  used  to  dance  so  nimbly  the  two-steps, 
and  was  inexhaustible  in  mad  pranks.  Now  tell  me,  Herr 
Wolfgang,  are  you  yourself,  or  are  you  another?" 

"  I  am  myself,  and  not  myself,"  answered  Goethe,  smiling. 
"  There  still  remains  a  good  portion  of  folly  in  me,  and  it 
must  sometimes  thunder  and  flash,  but  I  hope  the  atmosphere 
of  my  soul  will  become  clearer,  and  over  the  crater  a  more 

*  From  Klinger's  tragedy  "  Sturm  und  Drang." 


176  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

lovely  garden  will  spread  out,  in  which  beautiful,  fragrant 
flowers  will  bloom,  useful  and  profitable  for  my  friends  and 
myself.  Sometimes  I  long  for  this  as  for  the  promised  land; 
then  again  it  foams  and  thunders  in  me  like  fermenting  must, 
which,  defying  all  covers  and  hoops,  would  froth  up  to  heaven 
in  an  immense  source  of  mad  excitement!" 

"  Let  it  froth  and  foam,  and  spring  the  covers,  and  burst 
the  old  casks,"  cried  the  duke;  "I  delight  in  it,  and  every  in- 
fernal noise  you  make,  the  prouder  I  am  to  recognize  that 
from  this  foaming  must  will  clear  itself  a  marvellous  wine,  a 
delicious  beverage  for  gods  and  men,  with  which  the  world 
will  yet  refresh  itself,  when  we  are  long  gone  to  the  kingdom 
of  shades — to  the  something  or  nothing.  You  know,  Wolf,  I 
love  you,  and  I  am  proud  that  I  have  you !  It  is  true  that  1 
possess  only  a  little  duchy,  but  it  is  large  enough  to  lead  an 
agreeable  and  comfortable  existence — large  enough  for  a  little 
earthly  duke,  and  the  great  king  of  intellects,  Johann  Wolf- 
gang Goethe.  Let  us  return  to  our  dear  home,  for  I  acknowl- 
edge to  you  I  sigh  for  Weimar.  I  long  for  the  dear  little 
place,  where  every  one  knows  me  and  greets  me,  and  even  for 
my  dogs  and  horses." 

"And  I,"  said  Goethe,  "I  really  mourn  for  my  Tusculum, 
which  I  owe  to  the  generous,  kind  duke ;  for  the  balcony  of 
my  little  cottage,  where,  canopied  by  the  blue,  starry  vault  of 
heaven,  I  dream  away  the  lonely  May  nights." 

"  Is  there  nothing  else  you  sigh  for  but  the  summer-house 
at  Weimar?" 

"No!"  cried  Goethe,  and  an  indescribable  expression  of 
rapture  and  delight  was  manifest  in  his  whole  manner. 

"No,  why  should  I  deny  it,  how  could  I?  It  would  be 
treason  to  the  Highest  and  most  Glorious.  No,  I  long  for  my 
muse,  my  mistress,  my — " 

"  Beloved !"  interrupted  the  duke.  "  I  pray  you  not  to  be 
so  prudish,  so  reserved.  Have  the  courage  to  snap  your  fin- 
gers at  this  infamously  deceitful  moral  code,  and  proud  and 
distinguished  as  you  are,  elevate  yourself  above  what  these 


CHARLES  AUGUSTUS  AND  GOETHE.  177 

miserable  earthworms  call  morality.  For  the  eagle  there  is  a 
different  law  than  for  the  pigeon.  If  the  eagle  soars  aloft 
through  the  ether  to  his  eyry,  bearing  a  lamb  in  his  powerful 
claws,  has  he  not  a  right  to  it — the  right  of  superiority  and 
power  by  God's  grace?  Has  he  not  as  much  right  to  the 
lamb  as  the  pigeon  to  the  pea  which  she  finds  in  the  dust? 
If  the  pigeon  by  chance  sees  the  eagle  with  his  lamb,  she 
cries,  'Zeter!  mordio!'  with  the  pea  in  her  own  bill,  as  if  she 
were  in  a  position  to  judge  the  eagle." 

"A  beautiful  picture,"  cried  Goethe,  joyfully — "a  picture 
that  would  inspire  me  to  indite  a  poem." 

"  Write  one,  and  call  it  for  a  souvenir  '  The  Eagle  and  the 
Dove. '  Make  it  a  reality,  my  eagle  youth,  bear  off  the  white 
lamb  to  your  eyry,  and  let  the  world,  with  its  affected  moral- 
ity, say  what  it  likes.  How  can  you  bear  to  see  the  one  you 
love  at  the  side  of  another  man?  Tell  me,  confess  to  me,  is 
not  the  beautiful  Charlotte  von  Stein  your  beloved?" 

"  Not  in  the  sense  you  mean,  duke,  not  in  the  vulgar  sense 
of  the  word.  I  love  her,  I  adore  her,  with  a  pure  and  holy 
sentiment.  I  would  not  that  Charlotte  should  have  cause  to 
blush  before  her  children  on  my  account.  She  would  be  des- 
ecrated to  me  if  I,  in  my  inmost  soul,  could  imagine  the  blush 
of  shame  upon  her  cheek,  or  that  her  eye  could  brighten  at 
other  than  great,  beautiful,  and  noble  acts.  I  adore  her,  and 
to  me  she  is  the  ideal  of  the  purest  and  sweetest  womanhood. 
I  rejoice  that  she  is  as  she  is,  like  clear  mountain  crystal — • 
transparent  and  so  brightly  pure,  that  one  could  mirror  him- 
self therein.  She  stands  above  all  other  women,  and  to  her 
belong  all  my  thoughts,  and  would,  even  if  I  were  wedded  to 
another.  To  me  she  is  the  most  beautiful  of  the  beautiful, 
the  purest  of  the  pure,  the  most  graceful  of  the  graceful,  and 
all  my  thoughts  are  in  perfect  harmony  with  hers.  Now, 
duke,  if  it  is  agreeable  to  you,  knowing  my  feelings,  to  call 
Charlotte  von  Stein  my  beloved,  she  is  so  in  the  most  elevated 
sense  of  the  word." 

"Ah!    you   poets,  you    poets,"  sighed   the  duke,  smiling. 


178  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"A  streak  of  madness  in  you  all,  though  I  will  grant  that  it 
is  divine." 

"  Say  rather  that  Whit-Sunday  comes  to  us  every  day,  and 
the  divine  Spirit  descends  daily  upon  us  poets,  and  causes  us 
to  speak  in  unknown  tongues." 

"  I  will  say  that  you  are  the  god  Apollo  descended  from 
heaven,  and  with  gods  one  may  not  dare  to  dispute.  They 
act  differently  in  their  sphere  than  we  mortals  upon  earth. 
I  will  be  contented  if  our  ways  cross  from  time  to  time,  and 
we  can  once  in  a  while  walk  on  together  a  good  piece  the  way 
of  life  in  friendship  and  harmony.  If  it  would  please  my 
Wolf,  I  propose  to  turn  toward  beloved  Weimar,  the  dear 
place,  half  village,  half  city.  For  my  part  I  am  finished 
here,  my  business  with  General  von  Mollendorf  is  accom- 
plished. As  I  told  you  previously,  I  have  had  made  known  to 
the  king  my  refusal  to  allow  recruiting  in  my  duchy.  I  could 
not  consent  for  the  present.  In  short,  I  have  spoken  as  my 
secretary  Wolfgang  Goethe  has  recorded.*  General  Mollen- 
dorf has  waived  his  demand  for  the  present — and  to-day  we 
have  had  the  concluding  conference,  and  if  it  is  agreeable  to 
my  secretary,  we  might  set  off  this  afternoon  and  pass  a  day 
at  Dessau,  and  then  on  to  Weimar." 

"  Oh,  gladly  will  I  do  it;  it  seems  as  if  a  star  from  heaven 
had  twinkled  to  me  to  follow  it,  for  at  Weimar  is  centred  all 
my  happiness !  I  prefer  a  lowly  cabin  there  to  all  the  splendor 
and  palaces  of  a  city." 

"  Then  you  agree  with  me,  that  this  magnificently  vile  Ber- 
lin does  not  enchain  you  in  her  magic  net?" 

"  No,  she  holds  me  not,  though  it  has  been  pleasant  to  take 
a  peep  into  it  (like  a  child  into  a  curiosity-box).  I  have  seen 
'Old  Fritz.'  His  character,  his  gold,  and  his  silver,  his  mar- 
bles, his  apes  and  parrots,  and  even  his  town  curtains  please 
me.  It  is  pleasant  to  be  at  the  seat  of  war  at  the  very  mo- 
ment that  it  threatens  to  break  forth.  It  has  gratified  me  to 

*  This  memorial  upon  recruiting  is  found.  "  Correspondence  of  the  Grand  Duke 
Carl  August  and  Goethe,"  part  i.,  p.  4. 


CHARLES  AUGUSTUS  AND  GOETHE.  179 

witness  the  splendor  of  the  royal  city,  the  life,  order,  and 
abundance,  that  would  be  nothing  if  thousands  of  men  were 
not  ready  to  be  sacrificed;  the  medley  of  men,  carriages, 
horses,  artillery,  and  all  the  arrangements.  All  are  mere  pins 
in  the  great  clock-work,  only  puppets  whose  motion  is  received 
from  the  great  cylinder,  Fredericus  Rex,  who  indicates  to 
each  one  the  melody  they  must  play,  according  to  one  of  the 
thousand  pins  in  the  rotary  beam."  * 

"You  are  right  to  compare  the  great  man  to  the  chief 
cylinder  in  the  machine  of  state,"  nodded  the  duke  "He 
rules  and  sets  all  in  motion,  and  cares  not  whether  the  rabble 
are  suited  or  not.  It  has  enraged  me  sometimes  to  hear  the 
fellows  curse  him,  and  yet  I  acted  as  if  I  heard  them  not.  Let 
us  return  to  Weimar — mankind  seems  better  there,  Wolf." 

"  At  any  rate,  more  regardful  of  us  than  they  are  here, 
duke.  The  greater  the  world  the  uglier  the  farce ;  no  obscen- 
ities and  fooleries  of  the  buffoon  are  more  disgusting  than  the 
characters  of  the  great,  mediocre  and  insignificant,  all  mingled 
together.  I  prayed  this  morning  for  courage  to  hold  out  to 
the  end,  and  to  hasten  the  consummation.  I  am  grateful  for 
the  benefit  of  the  journey — but  I  pray  the  gods  not  to  con- 
duct themselves  toward  us  as  their  image-man,  for  I  should 
swear  to  them  eternal  hatred."  f 

"  Then  you  are  ready  to  depart,  Wolf?" 

"  Almost,  dear  Carl,  or,  if  you  will  it,  quite  ready.  A  few 
visits  I  would  make,  that  the  people  shall  not  be  too  severe 
upon  me  and  cry  out  against  my  pride  and  arrogance." 

"  Because  they  themselves  are  proud  and  supercilious,  they 
are  bold  enough  to  suppose  Wolfgang  Goethe  is  like  them.  I 
hope  you  will  not  visit  the  very  learned  Herr  Nicolai,  the  in- 
sipid prosaist,  the  puffed-up  rationalist,  who  believes  that  his 
knowledge  permits  him  to  penetrate  every  thing,  and  who  is 
a  veritable  ass." 

*  Goethe's  own  words.— See  Goethe's  "  Correspondence  with  Frau  von  Stein,"  part 
L,  p.  168.  Riemer,  "  Communications  about  Goethe,"  part  ii..  p.  60. 

t  Goethe's  own  words. — See  Goethe's  "  Correspondence  with  Frau  von  Stein,"  part 
I,  p.  169. 


180  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"No,  I  am  not  going  to  Nicolai,  Eammler,  or  Engel,  or,  as 
they  should  be  named,  the  wise  authors  of  Berlin.  I  shall 
visit  the  artist  Chodowiecki,  good  Karschin,  occasional  poet- 
ess, and  the  philosopher  Mendelssohn.  Then,  if  it  pleases 
you,  we  will  set  out  this  afternoon,  shaking  the  sand  of  Ber- 
lin from  our  feet." 

"  I  shall  prepare  whilst  you  make  your  visits.  Will  you 
take  my  carriage?  You  know  there  is  one  from  the  royal 
stables  always  at  my  service,  which  stands  at  the  door." 

"  Beware!  they  would  shriek  if  I  should  drive  to  their  doors 
in  a  royal  carriage.  They  would  accuse  me  of  throwing  aside 
the  poet,  and  being  only  secretary  of  legation.  I  will  go  on 
foot;  it  amuses  me  to  push  my  way  through  the  crowd,  and 
listen  to  the  Berlin  jargon." 


CHAPTEK   XVII. 

GOETHE'S  VISITS. 

TAKING  leave  of  his  ducal  friend,  Goethe  betook  himself  to 
the  street,  to  commence  his  visits.  Going  first  to  Chodo- 
wiecki, the  renowned  delineator  and  engraver,  whose  fame  had 
already  spread  throughout  Germany.  When  Goethe  entered, 
the  artist  was  busy  in  his  atelier,  working  upon  the  figures  of 
the  characters  in  the  "Mimic,"  the  latest  work  of  Professor 
Engel.  "Master,"  said  he,  smilingly,  extending  him  his 
hand,  "  I  have  come  to  thank  you  for  many  beautiful,  happy 
hours  which  I  owe  to  you.  You  paint  with  the  chisel  and 
poetize  with  the  brush.  An  artist  by  God's  grace. " 

"  If  the  poet  Goethe  says  that,  there  must  be  something  in 
it,"  replied  Chodowiecki,  with  a  radiant  face.  "I  have  to 
thank  you  for  the  most  beautiful  and  best  hours  of  my  life, 
and  I  am  proud  and  delighted  to  have  been  able  in  the  least 
to  return  the  pleasure.  The  only  blissful  tears  among  many 
bitter  ones  that  I  have  wept,  were  shed  over  the  '  Sorrows  of 


GOETHE'S  VISITS.  181 

Werther. '  'Gotz  von  Berlichingen' so  inspired  me  that  he 
appeared  to  me  in  my  dreams,  and  left  me  no  peace  until  I 
rose  in  the  night  to  draw  Gotz,  as  he  sat  talking  with  brother 
Martin  on  the  bench  in  the  forest.  Wait,  I  will  show  you 
the  drawing;  you  must  see  it." 

Goethe  examined  it  attentively,  and  expressed  his  pleasure 
at  the  correctness  and  dramatical  conception  of  the  design, 
and  did  not  remark,  or  perhaps  would  not,  that  the  artist  was 
busily  occupied  with  crayon  and  paper.  "  How  wonderfully 
you  have  reproduced  my  'German  Knight,'"  cried  Goethe, 
after  a  long  observation  of  it.  "  The  middle  ages  entire, 
proud  and  full  of  strength,  are  mirrored  in  this  figure,  and 
if  I  had  not  written  'Gotz  von  Berlichingen,' I  would  have 
been  inspired  to  it,  perhaps,  from  this  drawing.  Oh!  you 
artists  are  to  be  envied.  "We  need  many  thousand  words  to 
express  what  a  few  lines  represent,  and  a  stroke  suffices  to 
change  a  smiling  face  into  a  weeping  one.  How  feeble  is 
language,  and  how  mighty  the  pencil!  I  wish  I  had  the  tal- 
ent to  be  a  painter!" 

"And  I,"  cried  Chodowiecki,  "would  throw  all  my  pencils, 
brushes,  and  chisels  to  the  devil,  or  sell  him  my  soul,  if  I 
could  cope  with  the  genius  and  intellect  of  the  poet,  Wolf- 
gang Goethe.  What  a  man!  What  a  profile  the  gods  have 
given  him !  There !  look — have  you  ever  seen  a  man  with 
such  a  face?"  He  handed  Goethe  the  drawing,  which  proved 
to  be  a  speaking  profile-portrait  of  himself,  dashed  off  with  a 
few  strokes  full  of  genius. 

Goethe  looked  at  it  with  the  air  of  a  critic.  "  It  is  true," 
said  he,  perfectly  serious,  "  there  are  not  many  such  profiles, 
but  I  am  not  of  your  opinion  that  the  gods  fashioned  it. 
Those  sharp  features  look  as  if  the  joiner  had  cut  them  out  of 
oak,  and  they  lead  me  to  infer  a  very  disagreeable  character. 
I  naturally  do  not  know  who  the  picture  represents,  but  I 
must  tell  you,  master,  that  this  man  could  never  please  me, 
although  I  could  swear  it  is  a  speaking  likeness.  This  sharp, 
bowed  nose  has  something  impudent,  self-sufficient  in  it. 


182  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

The  brow  is  indeed  high,  which  betokens  thought,  but  the 
retreating  lines  prove  that  the  thoughts  only  commence,  and 
then  lose  themselves  in  a  maze.  The  mouth,  with  its  pouting 
lips,  has  an  insupportable  expression  of  stupid  good-nature 
and  sentimentality;  and  the  well-defined,  protruding  chin 
might  belong  to  the  robber-captain  Cartouche.  The  great 
wide-open  eyes,  with  their  affected  passionate  glances,  prove 
what  a  puffed-up  dandy  the  man  must  be,  who  perhaps  imagines 
all  the  women  in  love  with  his  face.  No,  no,  I  am  still  of  the 
opinion  that  the  original  could  never  please  me,  and  if  the 
physiognomist  Lavater  should  see  it,  he  would  say:  'That  is 
the  portrait  of  a  puffed-up,  quaint,  powerful  genius,  who  im- 
agines himself  something  important,  and  who  is  nothing !  The 
likeness  of  a  bombastic  fellow,  with  an  empty  head  behind  the 
pretentious  brow,  and  meaningless  phrases  on  the  thick  lips. ' ' 

"  If  Lavater  says  so,  he  is  a  fool  and  an  ass,"  cried  Chodo- 
wiecki,  furiously,  "  and  he  can  hide  himself  in  the  remotest 
corner  of  the  earth.  Lichtenberg  of  Gottingen  is  quite  right 
when  he  says  that  this  empty-headed  Lavater  has  made  him- 
self ridiculous  throughout  Germany  with  his  wonderful  physi- 
ognomy of  dogs'  tails  and  his  profiles  of  unknown  pigtails. 
If  Lavater  is  really  so  narrow-minded  as  not  to  be  able  to  dis- 
tinguish a  crow  from  an  eagle,  it  is  his  own  affair ;  but  he 
shall  never  presume  to  look  at  this  portrait,  and  you,  too,  are 
not  worthy,  you  scorner,  that  I  should  get  angry  with  you. 
The  likeness  is  so  beautiful  that  Jupiter  himself  would 
be  satisfied  to  have  it  imputed  to  him.  It  is  so  like,  that  you 
need  not  pretend  you  do  not  know  that  it  represents  Wolf- 
gang Goethe.  As  you  insult  it,  and  regard  it  with  scorn  and 
contempt,  I  will  destroy  it." 

"For  mercy's  sake  do  not  tear  it,"  cried  Goethe,  springing 
toward  Chodowiecki,  and  holding  him  fast  with  a  firm  grasp. 
"  My  dear  good  man,  do  not  tear  it ;  it  would  be  like  splitting 
my  own  head." 

"Ah,  ah!"  shouted  Chodowiecki,  "you  acknowledge  the 
likeness?" 


GOETHE'S  VISITS.  183 

"  I  do  acknowledge  it,  with  joy." 

"  And  will  you  admit  that  it  is  the  head  of  a  noble,  talented 
poet,  a  favorite  of  the  Muses?  Say  yes,  or  I  will  tear  it,  and 
you  will  have  terrible  pains  in  your  head  your  life  long!" 

"Yes,  yes!  all  that  you  wish.  I  am  capable  of  saying  the 
most  flattering  things  of  myself  to  save  this  beautiful  design. 
Give  it  to  me,  you  curious  fellow!" 

"No,"  said  Chodowiecki,  earnestly,  "I  will  not  give  it  to 
you.  Such  a  portrait  is  not  made  to  be  put  in  a  dusty  port- 
folio, or  framed  for  the  boudoir  of  your  lady-love.  All  Ger- 
many, all  the  world  should  enjoy  it,  and  centuries  later  the 
German  women  will  still  see  Wolfgang  Goethe  as  he  looked  in 
his  twenty-ninth  year,  and  hang  an  engraving  on  the  wall  in 
their  parlor,  and  sighing  and  palpitating  acknowledge — 
'  There  never  was  but  one  such  godlike  youth,  and  there  never 
will  be  another.  I  wish  that  I  had  known  him ;  I  wish  he 
had  loved  me!'  So  will  they  speak  centuries  later,  for  I  will 
perpetuate  this  drawing  in  a  steel  engraving  of  my  most  beau- 
tiful artistic  work. "  * 

"  You  are  a  splendid  fellow,  and  I  must  embrace  you,  and 
rejoice  to  be  immortalized  by  you,  for  this  portrait  pleases  me 
exceedingly.  I  might  well  be  proud  that  this  head  with  the 
|are  profile  is  a  counterpart  of  my  own.  Now  we  are  good 

3nds.  Before  I  say  farewell,  let  me  see  the  work  at  which 
disturbed  you  upon  entering." 

<3dfethe  was  about  to  raise  the  cloth,  when  Chodowiecki 
waved  him  back.  "Do  not  look  at  it,"  said  he,  quickly;  "I 
dislike  to  appear  as  a  mechanic  before  you,  as  I  wish  that  you 
should  honor  only  the  artist.  We  poor  toilers  are  badly  off, 
as  the  old  proverb  is  ever  proving  true  with  us,  'Art  goes  for 
bread. '  We  must  be  mechanics  the  chief  part  of  our  lives, 
in  order  to  have  a  few  hours  free,  in  which  we  are  allowed  to 
be  artists.  I  have  to  illustrate  the  most  miserable  works  with 
my  engravings,  to  buy  the  time  to  pursue  works  of  art." 

*This  engraving  from  the  artist  Chodowiecki  still  exists,  and  the  author  of  this 
work  possesses  a  beautiful  copy,  which  Ottilie  von  Goethe  sent  her.  It  is  a  bust  ID 
profile,  the  most  beautiful  of  his  youth. 


184  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  That  is  the  interest,  friend,  which  you  pay  the  world  for 
the  great  capital  which  the  gods  confided  to  you.  Believe 
me,  the  artist  Chodowiecki  would  have  but  a  morsel  to  eat  if 
the  mechanic  Chodowiecki  did  not  serve  him  a  tempting 
meal,  paying  the  bill.  Do  not  be  vexed  about  it ;  man  must 
have  a  trade  to  support  him,  as  art  is  never  remunerated.*  I 
hope  the  mechanic  will  be  well  paid,  that  the  artist  may 
create  beautiful  and  rare  works  for  us.  This  is  my  farewell 
visit  to-day,  friend.  If  you  will  hear  a  welcome  from  me  very 
soon,  come  to  Weimar,  and  see  how  one  honors  the  artists 
there,  and  how  well  appreciated  Chodowiecki  is. " 

Goethe  embraced  and  kissed  the  artist,  who  regarded  him, 
his  face  radiant  with  joy,  and  would  not  be  prevented  from 
accompanying  him  to  the  house  door,  as  if  he  were  a  prince 
or  a  king.  "Now  to  Madame  Karschin,"  said  Goethe  to 
himself,  as  he  hastened  through  the  streets  in  that  direction. 
*'  The  good  woman  has  welcomed  me  with  so  many  pretty 
verses  that  I  must  make  my  acknowledgments,  in  spite  of  my 
decision  to  keep  the  Berlin  authors  at  a  distance." 

From  Wilhelm  Street,  where  Chodowiecki  lived,  to  the  tilt- 
yard,  was  not  far,  and  Goethe  soon  reached  the  old, 
antiquated  house  where  the  poetess  lived.  After  many  ques- 
tionings and  inquiries  at  the  lower  stories  and  more  splendid 
apartments  of  the  house,  he  found  the  abode  of  the  poetess, 
and  climbed  up  the  steep  stairs  to  the  slanting  attic-room. 
The  dim  light  of  a  small  window  permitted  Goethe  to  read 
upon  a  gray  piece  of  paper,  pasted  upon  the  door,  'Anna 
Louisa  Karsch,  German  poetess.'  He  knocked  modestly  at 
the  door  at  first,  then  louder,  and  as  the  voices  within  never 
ceased  for  a  moment  their  animated  conversation,  he  opened 
it,  and  entered  the  obscure  room. 

"  I  will  do  it,  sir,"  said  the  little  woman  sitting  in  the  win- 
dow-niche near  a  table  to  a  young  man  standing  near  her. 
"  I  will  do  it,  though  I  must  tell  you  album  writing  is  very 
common.  But  you  must  promise  me  to  return  here,  and  let 

*  Goethe's  words.— See  G.  H.  Lewes's  "  Goethe's  Life  and  Writings,"  voL  1.,  p.  458. 


GOETHE'S  VISITS.  185 

me  see  what  Herr  Rammler  writes,  and  ttll  me  what  he  says 
about  me.  These  are  my  conditions. " 

"  Frau  Karschin,  I  promise  you,  upon  the  word  of  honor  of  a 
German  youth,  who  can  never  lower  himself  to  break  his  word." 

"  Very  well!  then  I  will  write." 

There  was  perfect  silence.  The  youth  watched  the  little, 
dry  hand  which  guided  the  pen,  with  a  devotional  mien,  and 
Goethe  with  eager  curiosity,  who,  unobserved,  stood  like  a 
suppliant  at  the  door  of  the  obscure  little  room,  the  shabby 
furniture  of  which  betrayed  the  narrow  circumstances  of  the 
German  poetess.  It  harmonized  with  the  occupant,  a  little, 
bony,  meagre  figure,  wearing  a  tight-fitting  blue-flowered 
chintz  dress.  Upon  the  gray  hair,  which,  parted  in  the  mid- 
dle, encircled  the  low  forehead,  was  a  cap,  which  had  lost  its 
whiteness,  and  was,  therefore,  more  in  harmony  with  the  ruff 
about  her  yellow,  thin  neck.  Her  sharp,  angular  features 
were  redeemed  by  large,  dark  eyes,  flashing  with  marvellous 
brilliancy  from  under  the  thick,  gray  eyebrows,  and  with 
quick,  penetrating  glances  she  sometimes  turned  them  to  the 
ceiling  thoughtfully  as  she  wrote.  "  There,  sir,  is  my  poem," 
said  she,  laying  down  the  pen.  "  Listen : 

'  Govern  your  will; 
If  it  hinders  duty, 
It  fetters  virtue; 
Then  envy  beguiles 
Into  fault-finding.'  " 

"Oh,  how  beautiful!"  cried  the  young  man,  enraptured. 
a  I  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  those  glorious  words,  and 
they  shall  henceforth  be  the  guiding  star  of  my  existence. " 

"  Go  to  Professor  Rammler,  and  then  return  and  show  me 
what  he  writes,  for  I  am  convinced — .  Oh,  Heavens !  there 
is  a  stranger,"  she  cried,  as  she  discovered  Goethe,  who  had 
remained  standing  by  the  door. 

"Yes,  a  stranger,"  said  Goethe,  smiling,  and  approaching, 
as  the  happy  possessor  of  the  album  withdrew — "  a  stranger 
who  would  not  leave  Berlin  without  visiting  the  German 

poetess." 

18 


186  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  And  without  verses  in  your  album;  is  it  not  so?  I  have 
become  the  fashion,  and  if  I  could  only  live  by  immortalizing 
myself  in  your  albums,  I  should  be  free  from  care.  Now  I 
have  divined  it — you  wish  an  autograph?" 

"  No !  only  a  good  word,  and  a  friendly  shake  of  the  hand,  for 
I  possess  a  poem  and  a  letter  which  the  good  Frau  Karschin 
sent  me  at  Weimar  some  six  months  since,  written  by  herself." 

"Is  it  Goethe?"  she  cried,  clasping  her  hands  in  astonish- 
ment. "  The  poet  Johann  Wolfgang  Goethe,  the  renowned 
author  of  the  work  which — " 

"Cost  you  many  tears,"  broke  in  Goethe,  laughing.  "I 
beg  you  spare  me  these  phrases,  which  follow  me  upon  my 
journey  as  the  Furies  Orestes.  I  know  that  'Werther'  has 
become  the  favorite  of  the  reading  public ;  he  has  opened  all 
the  tear-ducts  and  made  all  lovers  of  moonlight  as  soft  as  a 
swaddling-cloth.  I  could  punish  myself  for  having  written 
'Werther.'" 

Frau  Karschin  laughed  aloud.  "That  is  glorious!  You 
please  me!  You  are  a  famous  poet  and  a  genius,  for  only 
geniuses  can  revise  and  ridicule  themselves.  Welcome,  Ger- 
many's greatest  poet,  welcome  to  the  attic  of  the  poetess! 
There  is  the  good  word  which  you  would  have,  and  here  is 
the  hand.  Did  you  think  it  worth  while  to  visit  poor 
Karschin  ?  I  am  rejoiced  at  it,  for  I  see  that  they  accused 
you  unjustly  of  arrogance  and  pride!" 

"Do  they  accuse  me  of  it?"  asked  Goethe,  smiling.  "  Can 
the  Berlin  poets  and  authors  never  forgive  me  that  I  live  at  a 
court,  and  am  honored  with  the  favor  of  a  prince?" 

"  They  would  willingly  forgive  you  if  they  had  the  power  to 
push  you  one  side,  and  take  your  place.  They  are  angry  with 
you,  because  they  envy  you  and  are  not  accustomed  to  be  es- 
teemed. Our  prince  and  ruler,  as  great  a  hero  and  king  as 
he  otherwise  is,  cares  little  for  German  poetry,  and  for  all  he 
would  care,  the  Berlin  authors  might  starve,  one  and  all ;  he 
would  trouble  himself  no  more  about  them  than  the  flies 
dancing  in  the  sunlight." 


GOETHE'S  VISITS.  187 

"  The  great  king  is  still  the  same,  then?  He  will  never 
know  anything  of  German  literature?" 

"  No !  he  declares  that  it  is  the  language  of  barbarians  and 
bear-catchers;  scolds  about  us,  and  despises  us,  and  yet  knows 
as  little  of  us  as  the  man  in  the  moon.  He  adores  his  Voltaire. 
Old  Fritz  knows  the  French  poet  by  heart,  but  Lessing  he 
knows  nothing  of.  He  abuses  '  Gotz  von  Berlichingen, '  and 
'Werther's  Sorrows.' ' 

"  Oh !  I  know  it  all — I  know  the  king's  adjutant-general, 
von  Siedlitz.  I  often  dine  with  him,  and  read  aloud  my 
poems  to  him,  when  he  relates  to  me  what  the  king  says  to 
enrage  me.  You  must  know  when  I  am  angry  I  speak  in 
verse.  I  accustomed  myself  to  it  during  my  unhappy  mar- 
riage with  the  tailor  Karsch.  "When  he  scolded,  I  answered 
in  verse,  and  tried  to  turn  my  thoughts  to  other  things,  and 
to  make  the  most  difficult  rhymes.  As  he  was  always  scold- 
ing and  quarrelling,  I  always  spoke  in  rhyme." 

"  And  in  this  way  you  led  a  very  poetical  marriage?"  smiled 
Goethe. 

"Yes,  indeed,  poetical,"  she  said,  and  her  large  brilliant 
eyes  were  dimmed.  "  If  it  is  true  that  tears  are  the  baptism 
of  poets,  then  I  was  baptized  daily  for  twleve  years,  and  ought 
to  be  an  extraordinary  poetess." 

"That  you  are,  indeed,"  said  Goethe,  "who  would  dispute 
it?  You  have  given  evidence  of  great  poetical  talent,  and  I 
read  your  heroic  poem  upon  the  Great  Frederick  with  real 
delight." 

"Do  you  know  what  Tie  did?"  she  asked,  bitterly.  "I 
turned  to  him,  begging  for  assistance ;  for  who  should  a  poet 
turn  to,  but  his  God  and  his  king?  Moreover,  he  had  prom- 
ised it  to  me  personally." 

"  You  have  spoken  with  him,  then,  yourself?"  asked 
Goethe. 

"  Yes,  eight  years  ago ;  General  von  Siedlitz  procured  me 
an  audience.  The  king  was  very  gracious,  and  among  other 
things,  asked  me  about  my  life ;  and  as  I  explained  to  him 


188  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

my  poverty  and  want,  he  most  kindly  promised  to  help 
me."* 

"  And  did  he  not  fulfil  his  promise?" 

"  No,  had  it  been  given  to  the  least  of  the  French  writers 
he  would  have  kept  it,  but  to  a  German  poet  it  was  not  worth 
while.  What  is  a  native  poet  to  the  great  German  king? 
A  phantom  that  he  knows  not,  and  believes  not.  As  great  as 
he  is,  the  king  showed  himself  very  small  to  me.  I  sang  him 
as  a  poetess  and  he  bestowed  a  pittance  upon  me  as  one  would 
to  a  beggar  in  tatters  by  the  wayside." 

"  Is  it  really  true,  upon  your  supplication — " 

"  Sent  me  two  thalers !  Yes,  that  is  indeed  true,  and  I  see 
by  your  smile  that  you  know  it,  and  know  also  that  I  returned 
it  to  him.  I  had  rather  die  with  hunger  than  take  a  beggar's 
penny.  But  let  me  relate  to  you  what  happened  two 
weeks  since.  I  had  borne  patiently  the  affair  of  the  •  two 
thalers,  and  forgotten  it.  I  am  more  comfortable  now; 
the  booksellers  pay  me  for  my  songs  and  poems  very 
well,  and  a  number  of  patrons  and  friends,  at  whose  head  is 
the  Prince  of  Prussia,  give  me  a  small  pension,  from  which  I 
can  at  least  live — though  poorly.  One  of  my  patrons  sent  me 
a  strip  of  land  on  the  Spree  not  far  from  the  Hercules  Bridge, 
where  I  would  gladly  build  me  a  little  house,  at  last  to  have  a 
sure  abiding-place  where  I  could  retire — that  would  be  a 
refuge  against  all  the  troubles  and  sorrows  of  life.  As  I 
thought  it  over,  the  old  confidence  and  imperishable  love  for 
the  great  king  rose  again  within  me,  and  as  I  esteemed  him  I 
always  hoped  for  the  fulfilment  of  his  promise.  I  applied  to 
him  again,  and  begged  him  to  do  for  me  what  he  had  granted 
to  so  many  cobblers  and  tailors,  as  the  king  gives  building- 
money  to  help  those  who  will  build.  All  the  houses  of  the 
Gensdarmen-markt  are  built  by  royal  aid,  and  sometimes  the 
king  designs  the  faqades,  as  he  did  for  the  butcher  Kuhn's 
great  house ;  and  sent  him  a  design  to  ornament  the  frieze  of 

*  This  interview  which  Frau  Karschin  had  with  the  king  is  found  in  "  Anecdotes 
and  Traits  of  Character  of  Frederick  the  Great,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  72. 


GOETHE'S  VISITS.  189 

ninety-nine  sheeps'  heads,  only  ninety-nine,  for  he  said  the 
butcher  himself  was  the  one  hundredth.  The  butcher  remon- 
strated, but  he  was  obliged  to  keep  them,  if  he  would  have 
the  building-money." 

"Really,"  cried  Goethe,  laughing,  "the  king  is  an  inge- 
nious and  extraordinary  man  in  every  thing,  and  no  one  is  like 
him." 

"  No  one  is  like  him,  and  no  one  would  have  treated  me  as 
he  did.  I  addressed  to  him  a  poem,  begging  him  with  true 
inspiration  and  emotion  to  let  a  German  poetess  find  favor  in 
his  sight — and  that  he  would  be  for  me  a  Maecenas,  if  I  were 
not  a  Horace.  My  heart  bled  with  sorrow,  that  I  must  so  beg 
and  pray,  and  my  tears  wet  the  paper  upon  which  I  indited 
my  begging,  rhyming  petition.  How  much  money  do  you 
think  the  great  king  sent  me  for  my  house?  Think  of  the 
smallest  sum." 

"  If  it  was  small,  yet  for  building-money  he  would  send 
you  at  least  two  hundred  thalers." 

The  poetess  burst  into  a  scornful  laugh.  "  He  sent  me 
three  thalers !  The  great  Frederick  sent  me  three  thalers  to 
build  a  house!" 

"  What  did  you  do?     Did  you  take  them?" 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  proudly,  "  and  I  will  leave  them  as  a 
legacy  to  my  daughter,  as  an  historical  souvenir  for  succeed- 
ing generations,  who  will  relate  the  benevolence  of  the  Ger- 
man king  for  the  German  poetess.  I  sent  the  king  a  receipt 
— I  will  read  it  to  you. 

'  His  majesty  commanded, 
Instead  of  building-money, 
To  send  me  three  thalers. 
The  order  was  exactly, 
Promptly  fulfilled. 
I  am  indebted  for  thanks, 
But  for  three  thalers  can 
No  joiner  in  Berlin 
My  coffin  make; 

Otherwise  to-morrow  I  would  order 
Such  a  house  without  horror 
Where  worms  feast, 
And,  feasting,  quarrel 


190  OLD  FEITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

Over  the  lean,  care-worn 

Old  woman's  remains 

That  the  kinglet  sigh  away.'  * 

"  Why  do  you  not  laugh?"  said  Frau  Karschin,  raising  her 
flashing  eyes  to  Goethe,  who  sat  looking  down  earnestly  and 
quietly  before  her. 

"I  cannot,"  he  gently  answered.  "Your  poem  makes  me 
Bad;  it  recalls  the  keen  sorrow  of  a  poet's  existence,  the  oft- 
repeated  struggle  between  Ideality  and  Keality.  The  blessed 
of  the  gods  must  humble  themselves ;  though  they  may  raise 
their  heads  to  heaven,  their  feet  must  still  rest  upon  earth; 
and  to  find  their  way  upon  it,  and  walk  humbly  therein,  they 
must  again  lower  their  inspired  heads." 

"Oh,  that  makes  me  feel  better,"  cried  Karschin,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes;  "  that  is  balsam  for  my  wounds.  You  are 
a  great  poet,  Goethe,  I  feel  it  to  be  so.  You  are  a  great  man, 
for  your  heart  is  good  and  filled  with  pity.  How  unjustly 
they  call  you  cold  and  proud !  Only  be  a  little  more  yielding, 
and  call  upon  the  Berlin  poets  and  writers.  You  can  imagine 
that  the  news  of  your  arrival  ran  like  wild-fire  through  the 
town.  Nicolai,  Kammler,  Engel,  Mendelssohn,  and  all  the 
other  distinguished  gentlemen  have  stayed  at  home  like 
badgers  in  their  kennels,  watching  for  you,  so  as  not  to  miss 
your  visit.  At  last  they  became  desperate,  and  scolded 
furiously  over  your  arrogance  and  pride  in  thinking  yourself 
better  than  they.  Why  have  you  not  called  upon  them?" 

There  was  a  loud  knocking  at  the  door,  and  the  young  man 
with  his  album  entered,  almost  breathless.  "Here  I  am," 
said  he,  "  I  came  directly  from  Professor  Kammler  here,  as  I 
promised  you." 

"  You  saw  him,  then?     Has  he  written  something  for  you?" 

"Yes,  I  saw  him,  and  he  granted  my  request." 

"And  abused  me,  did  he  not,  with  his  nose  turned  up? 
You  must  know,  Goethe,  that  Professor  Eammler  despises  my 
poems,  because  I  am  not  so  learned  in  Greek  and  Koman 

*  See  "  Life  and  Poems  of  Louisa  Karschin,"  edited  by  her  daughter. 


GOETHE'S  VISITS.  191 

mythology  as  he  is.  Now  tell  me,  my  yonng  friend,  what 
did  he  say  about  me?" 

"  I  promised  you,  upon  my  word  of  honor,  to  tell  you  every 
thing,  but  I  hope  you  will  release  me  from  the  promise." 
sighed  the  young  man. 

"  No,  that  I  will  not.  Much  more,  upon  the  strength  of 
your  word  of  honor,  I  desire  it.  You  promised,  word  for 
word,  to  relate  it  to  me." 

"  If  it  must  be,  then,  let  it  be.  I  went  at  once  to  Professor 
Rammler's.  He  asked  me  immediately  if  I  had  not  been 
here." 

"Just  as  /asked  you"  laughed  Karschin. 

"  I  affirmed  it,  saying  that  you  showed  me  his  house. 
Upon  which  he  asked,  'Did  she  say  any  thing  against  me? 
She  is  accustomed  to  do  it  before  strangers,  like  all  old 
women.'  He  then  turned  over  my  album,  and  as  he  saw  the 
lines  you  wrote  he  reddened,  and  striking  the  book — 'I  see  it, 
I  knew  she  had  said  something  about  me.  She  tells  every 
stranger  that  I  think  she  is  censorious.  What  she  has  writ- 
ten is  aimed  at  me. '  Upon  that  he  wrote  some  lines  opposite 
yours,  shut  the  book,  and  handed  it  to  me.  I  have  not  even 
had  the  time  to  read  them." 

"Read  them  now,  quickly." 

"'He  who  slanders  and  listens  to  slander,  let  him  be  pun- 
ished. She  may  be  hung  by  the  tongue,  and  he  by  the 
ears.'  "  * 

"That  is  shameful — that  is  mean!"  said  Frau  Karschin, 
while  Goethe  re-read  the  cutting  epigram.  "  That  is  just  like 
Eammler;  his  tongue  is  like  a  two-edged  sword  for  every  one 
but  himself,  and  he  fans  his  own  glories,  and  does  not  know 
that  he  is  a  fool.  Frederick  the  Great  himself  called  him  so. 
One  of  his  generals  called  his  attention  to  him,  upon  which 
Frederick  turned  his  horse,  riding  directly  up  to  him,  asking, 
'Is  this  the  distinguished  Rammler?'  'Yes,  your  majesty,  I 

*  This  scene  took  place  literally,  and  may  be  found  in  "  Celebrated  German  Au- 
thors," vol.  ii.,  p.  240. 


192  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

am  he,'  the  little  professor  proudly  bowed.  'You  are  a  fool!' 
called  out  Frederick,  very  loud,  and  rode  away,  as  all  around 
the  'Great  Rammler'  laughed  and  sneered.  There  are  many 
such  stories.  Shall  I  tell  you  how  Lessing  teased  him?" 

"  No,  dear  woman,  tell  me  nothing  more.  I  perceive  your 
Berlin  writers  and  poets  are  a  malicious,  contentious  set  of 
people.  I  may  well  fear  you,  and  shall  be  glad  to  escape  un- 
harmed. Think  kindly  of  me,  and  have  pity  upon  me ;  if 
the  others  are  too  severe,  raise  your  dear  hand  and  hold  back 
the  scourge  that  it  may  not  fall  upon  poor  Wolfgang  Goethe. 
Adieu,  dear  Frau  Karschin." 

Goethe  bowed,  and  hastened  down  into  the  street.  "  With 
the  authors  and  poets  of  Berlin  I  wish  nothing  more  to  do, 
but  with  the  philosophers  I  may  be  more  fortunate,  and  with 
them  find  the  wisdom  and  forbearance  which  fail  the 
poets." 

Goethe  bent  his  steps  to  Spandauer  Street,  in  which  the 
merchant  and  philosopher  Moses  Mendelssohn  lived ;  hastened 
up  the  stairs,  and  knocked,  which  was  answered  by  an  old 
servant,  to  whom  Goethe  announced  himself.  The  servant 
disappeared,  and  the  poet  stood  in  the  little,  narrow  corridor, 
smilingly  looking  to  the  study-door,  and  waiting  for  the 
"  gates  of  wisdom"  to  open  and  let  the  worldling  enter  the 
temple  of  philosophy. 

The  crooked  little  man,  the  great  philosopher,  Moses,  son 
of  Mendelssohn,  stood  behind  the  door,  turning  over  in  his 
mind  whether  he  would  receive  Goethe  or  not.  "  Why  should 
I?  The  proud  secretary  of  legation  has  already  been  in  Ber- 
lin eight  days,  and  wishes  to  prove  to  me  that  he  cares  little 
for  Berlin  philosophers.  My  noble  friend,  the  great  Lessing, 
cannot  abide  'Gotz  von  Berlichingen;'  and  Nicolai,  Rammler, 
and  Engel  are  the  bitter  opponents,  the  very  antipodes  of  the 
rare  genius  and  secretary  of  legation  from  Weimar.  If  he 
wishes  to  see  me,  why  did  he  come  so  late,  so — " 

"Herr  Goethe  is  waiting — shall  he  enter?"  asked  the 
servant. 


FAREWELL  TO  BERLIN.  193 

The  philosopher  raised  his  head.  "No,"  cried  he,  loudly. 
"No!  tell  him  you  were  mistaken.  I  am  not  at  home." 

The  old  servant  looked  quite  frightened  at  his  master — the 
first  time  he  had  heard  an  untruth  from  him.  "  What  shall 
I  say,  sir?" 

"Say  no,"  cried  Moses,  very  excited  and  ill-humored. 
:'  Say  that  I  am  not  at  home — that  I  am  out." 

With  a  determined,  defiant  manner  the  philosopher  seated 
himself  to  work  upon  his  new  book,  "Jerusalem,"  saying  to 
himself,  "  I  am  right  to  send  him  away ;  he  waited  too  long, 
it  is  too  late."  * 


CHAPTEE    XVIII. 

FAREWELL  TO   BERLIN. 

"WHAT  is  the  matter,  my  dear  Wolf?"  cried  the  duke,  as 
Goethe  returned  from  his  visits.  "  What  mean  those  shadows 
upon  your  brow?  Have  the  cursed  beaux-esprits  in  Berlin 
annoyed  and  tortured  you?" 

u  No,  duke,  I — "  and  suddenly  stopping,  he  burst  into  a 
loud,  ringing  laugh,  and  sprang  about  the  room,  bounding 
up  and  down,  shouting,  "Hurrah!  hurrah!  Long  live  the 
philosophers,  vivat  the  philosophers!" 

"They  shall  live — live — live,"  shouted  the  duke! 

"  Vivat  the  philosophers!  hurrah!  To  the  May-sports  upon 
the  Blockberg  they  ride  upon  a  little  ass  with  golden  horns — 
with  Pharisaical  mien,  praying  with  their  eyes,  'I  thank 
Thee,  0  Lord,  that  I  am  a  philosopher,  that  I  am  not  as  the 
world's  children,  vain,  proud,  and  arrogant.'  Hey,  good 
Carl  Augustus,  to-day  a  great  revelation  has  been  made 
known  to  me  by  a  philosopher.  Wisdom  flowed  from  his 
mouth.  All  the  spiders  in  their  gray,  self -woven  nets,  whis- 

*  From  Ludwig  Tieck  I  learned  this  anecdote,  and  he  assured  me  that  Moses 
Mendelssohn  told  it  to  him.— See  "  Goethe  in  Berlin,  Leaves  of  Memory,"  p.  0. — The 
Authoress. 


194  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

pered  and  sang  in  his  corridor,  'We  weave  at  the  fountain  of 
life,  we  spin  the  web  of  time.'  The  little  mice  crept  out 
from  the  corners,  whispering,  Hallelujah!  Here  lives  the 
great  philosopher  Moses,  who  has  devoured  wisdom,  and  is 
unknowing  of  earthly  vanities.  Oh !  the  mice  and  the  spiders 
waltz  together  upon  the  threshold  of  the  great  philosopher. 
Hey,  ha!  a  waltz  we  will  dance!" 

Goethe  caught  the  duke  with  both  arms  around  the  waist, 
and  tore  around  in  a  giddy  whirl,  both  laughing,  both  shriek- 
ing. Wolfshund,  the  duke's  dog,  asleep  in  the  corner,  sprang 
up  howling  and  barking  at  their  wild  bounds  and  goat-like 
springs,  and  joined  the  dancers.  As  Goethe  felt  the  ribbon 
which  confined  his  cue  give  way,  he  shook  wildly  his  curly, 
powdered  hair  and  it  fell  in  mad  confusion.  Both  he  and  the 
duke  now  sank  exhausted  to  the  floor,  panting  and  laughing. 

"  Heaven  be  praised,  Wolf,"  said  the  duke,  "  the  must  has 
once  more  fermented,  and  sprung  a  few  of  the  hoops  of 
dignity?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Goethe,  who  suddenly  assumed  a  grave, 
serious  mien,  "the  must  has  fermented,  and  I  trust  a  fine 
wine  will  clear  itself  from  it. " 

"  Can  you  not  set  off,  Wolf?"  asked  the  duke,  springing 
up.  "Have  you  had  sufficient  of  the  Berliners?" 

"I  have  done  with  them,"  replied  Goethe,  "not  only  with 
the  Berliners,  but  it  may  be  with  all  the  rest  of  humanity. 
I  feel,  my  duke,  that  the  bloom  of  confidence,  candor,  and 
self-sacrificing  love  fades  daily;  only  for  you,  and  the  friend 
whom  I  love,  is  there  still  attraction  and  fragrancy.  Oh !  you 
dear  ones,  be  charitable,  and  do  not  consent  that  they  fade 
for  you.  Let  the  goodness  which  I  read  in  your  eyes,  my 
dear  Carl,  and  the  sunny  rays  of  friendship  strengthen  the 
poor  little  blossom,  that  it  does  not  entirely  fade  and  wither 
away !"  With  passionate  earnestness  he  threw  his  arms  around 
the  duke,  pressing  him  to  his  bosom. 

"Oh!  Wolf,  my  dear  Wolf,  you  have  a  child's  heart  and  a 
poet's  soul.  Are  you  faint-hearted  and  dispirited?  Do  you 


FAREWELL  TO  BERLIN.  195 

not  know  that  you  are  the  sun  which  brings  forth  the  flowers 
for  us,  and  shines  for  us  all?  Let  no  clouds  overshadow  you, 
Wolf!  Let  your  fresh,  youthful  vigor,  and  divine  brilliancy, 
penetrate  them.  In  the  thick,  sandy  atmosphere  of  Berlin  I 
confess  the  sun  itself  loses  its  force  and  brightness!  Come! 
let  us  be  off.  Our  steeds  stamp  with  impatience."  The 
duke  drew  his  friend  from  the  room  and  joyfully  they  sprang 
down  the  stairs  to  the  carriage,  the  great  dog  following,  howl- 
ing and  barking  after  them.  "  Forward,  then,  forward ! 
Blow,  postilion,  blow !  A  gay  little  air !  Let  it  peal  through 
the  streets,  a  farewell  song!  Blow,  postilion,  blow!  and  I 
will  moisten  your  throat  at  the  gates  with  the  thin,  white 
stuff,  which  you  have  the  boldness  to  call  beer."  The  pos- 
tilion laughed  for  joy,  and  the  German  song  resounded  in 
quivering  tones — "Three  riders  rode  out  of  the  gate."  He 
blew  so  long  and  loudly,  that  the  dog  set  up  a  mournful  howl, 
and  amid  the  peals  of  the  postilion,  and  the  distressed  cry  of 
Wolfshund,  they  drove  through  the  long,  hot  streets  of  Ber- 
lin, through  the  Leipsic  Gate,  and  the  suburbs  with  their 
small,  low  houses.  The  wagon-wheels  sank  to  the  spokes  in 
the  loose,  yellow  sand  of  the  hill  they  soon  mounted,  and,  ar- 
riving at  the  top  of  which,  the  postilion  stopped  to  let  his 
horses  take  breath,  and  turned  to  remind  his  aristocratic  pas- 
sengers that  this  was  their  last  view  of  the  city. 

"And  will  be  seen  no  more,"  repeated  the  duke.  "Come, 
let  us  take  a  farewell  look  at  Berlin,  Wolf!"  and  away  they 
sprang  without  waiting  for  the  footman  to  descend,  and  waded 
through  the  sand  to  a  rising  in  the  fallow  fields.  There  they 
stood,  arm  in  arm,  and  viewed  the  town  with  its  towers  and 
chimneys,  houses,  barracks,  and  palaces  stretched  at  their  feet. 
A  thick,  gray,  cloud  of  vapor  and  smoke  hovered  over  it,  and 
veiled  the  horizon  in  dust  and  fog.  "  Farewell,  Berlin,  you 
city  of  arrogance  and  conceit!"  cried  the  duke,  joyfully.  "  I 
shake  your  dust  from  my  feet,  and  strew  the  sand  of  your 
fields  over  every  souvenir  of  you  in  memory,"  and  suiting  the 
action  to  his  words,  he  tossed  a  handful  of  it  in  the  air. 


196  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"Farewell,  Muses  and  Graces  of  sand  and  dust!"  cried 
Goethe,  as  his  fiery  eye  flashed  far  out  over  the  fog-enveloped 
roofs.  "  Farewell,  Berlin,  void  of  nature  and  without  verd- 
ure! the  abode  of  poetic  art,  but  not  of  poesy.  You  Babylon 
of  wisdom  and  philosophy,  I  have  seen  you  with  your  painted 
cheeks  and  coquettish  smile,  your  voluptuous  form  and  se- 
ductive charms.  You  shall  never  ensnare  me  with  your 
deceitful  beauty,  and  suck  the  marrow  from  my  bones,  or  the 
consciousness  of  pure  humanity  from  my  soul.  Beautiful 
may  you  be  to  enslaved  intellects,  but  to  the  free,  they  turn 
their  backs  to  you  and  thrice  strew  ashes  on  your  head. 
Farewell,  Berlin,  may  I  never  see  you  again!"*  Goethe 
stooped  and  threw  a  handful  of  sand  in  the  air 

The  postilion,  tired  of  standing  in  the  burning  sun,  blew 
loudly  the  air  of  the  soldier's  song :  "  Now,  adieu,  Louisa, 
wipe  your  face,  every  ball  does  not  hit."  Mournfully  the 
melody  sounded  in  the  stillness,  like  accusing  spirits  who  wept 
the  insult  of  the  prince  and  the  poet. 

"  Now,  on  to  our  dear  Weimar,  Wolf!"  The  carriage  rolled 
down  the  sandy  hill,  and  Berlin  disappeared  to  the  travellers, 
lost  in  dreamy  thought.  Slowly  they  advanced,  in  spite  of 
relays  and  fresh  horses  at  every  station.  Night  spread  out 
her  starry  mantle  over  the  world,  and  the  sleepers  who  rested 
from  the  burdens  and  cares  of  the  day.  Goethe  alone  was 
wakeful  and  vigilant.  With  his  beautiful  eyes,  as  brilliant  as 
fallen  stars,  uplifted  to  heaven,  to  God,  his  manly  bosom 
heaving  with  noble  thoughts  and  glorious  aspirations,  he  re- 
viewed the  past,  and  recalled  with  joy  that  he  had  accom- 
plished much  and  well.  He  peered  into  the  future,  and 
promised  himself  to  do  more  and  better.  "Yes,  I  will," 
whispered  he  softly,  pointing  to  the  stars ;  "  so  high  as  pos- 

*  Goethe,  in  fact,  never  visited  Berlin  again,  though  he  was  of  ten  invited  there,  par- 
ticularly when  the  new  theatre  was  opened,  with  a  poetic  prologue  written  by  him- 
self. They  inaugurated  the  festivity  with  Goethe's  "Iphigenia,"  the  first  representa- 
tion, and  Prince  Badzwill  urgently  invited  the  poet,  through  Count  Bruhl,  to  visit 
Berlin  at  this  time,  and  reside  in  his  palace.  But  Goethe  refused ;  he  was  seventy- 
two  years  old  (1826),  and  excused  himself  on  account  of  his  age. 


FAREWELL  TO  BERLIN.  197 

sible  shall  the  pyramid  of  my  being  rise.  To  that  I  will  con- 
stantly bend  my  thoughts,  never  forgetting  it,  for  I  dare  not 
tarry;  with  the  years  already  on  my  head,  fate  may  arrest  my 
steps,  and  the  tower  of  Babylon  remain  unfinished.  At 
least  they  must  acknowledge  the  edifice  was  boldly  designed, 
and  if  I  live,  God  willing,  it  shall  rise." 


BOOK  III. 

STORM    AND    PRESSURE. 


CHAPTEK    XIX. 

THE   KING   AND   THE   AUSTRIAN    DIPLOMAT. 

FREDERICK  commenced  the  campaign  against  the  house  of 
Hapsburg  with  all  the  energy  and  bold  courage  of  former 
days.  The  diplomats  had  once  more  been  permitted  to  seek 
the  arts  of  negotiation,  and,  these  having  failed,  the  king  ad- 
vanced rapidly,  and  entered  Bohemia  with  his  advance-guard. 
The  imperial  army,  informed  of  the  approach  of  the  enemy, 
retired  hurriedly  to  their  intrenchments  at  Koniggratz,  be- 
yond the  Elbe,  without  a  decisive  battle.  In  the  skirmishes 
at  the  outposts  the  Prussians  had  been  victorious.  On  the 
opposite  shore  of  the  Elbe,  at  Welsdorf,  the  king  took  up  his 
headquarters.  Why  did  he  not  pursue  his  bold  run  of  vic- 
tory? Why  did  he  not  surprise  the  imperial  army,  which  he 
knew  was  scattered,  and  not  in  a  position  to  resist  the 
strength  of  the  Prussian  forces?  Moreover,  the  second  col- 
umn of  the  Prussian  army,  under  the  command  of  Prince 
Henry,  had  also  entered  Bohemia,  and  fortified  a  camp  near 
Eimburg,  having  united  with  the  Saxon  allies,  which  caused 
the  imperialists  under  Field-Marshal  Loudon  to  seek  pro- 
tection beyond  the  Iser,  near  Miinchengratz  and  Yung- 
bunzlau.  Why  did  the  king  then  stop  in  the  midst  of  his 
victorious  career?  He  had  advanced  to  the  field  with  his 
fresh,  youthful  fire,  a  shining  example  to  all.  He  was  always 
mounted,  shunning  no  danger,  but  taking  part  in  the  hard- 


THE  KING  AND  THE  AUSTRIAN  DIPLOMAT.         199 

ships  and  fatigue  incident  to  the  changing  life  of  war ;  even 
showing  himself  personally  active  at  the  discovery  of  f  oraging- 
parties.  Why  did  he  suddenly  hesitate  and  lie  inactive  in 
his  camp?  Why  did  he  not  summon  his  generals  and  staff- 
officers  to  his  quarters,  instead  of  his  Minister  von  Herzberg? 
Every  one  asked  himself  the  question,  and  every  one  answered 
it  differently. — Some  said,  "Because  the  Empress  of  Russia 
had  raised  objections  to  this  war  of  German  brothers;"  others, 
that  "  the  King  of  the  French  had  offered  to  settle  the  quar- 
rel as  intermediator."  A  third  said,  the  "empress-queen, 
Maria  Theresa,  was  terrified  at  the  rapid  advance  of  the  Prus- 
sians, and  had  immediately  commenced  negotiations  for 
peace." 

While  the  wise  politicians  of  Germany  and  all  Europe  re- 
flected and  pondered,  Frederick  tarried  quietly  in  his  peasant- 
house,  in  which  he  had  taken  up  his  quarters,  and  which  had 
been  arranged  very  comfortably  with  carpets,  camp-stools, 
and  curtains.  He  sat  in  his  cabinet  upon  the  high,  leather- 
covered  arm-chair,  which  had  been  brought  for  him  from  the 
neighboring  parsonage.  Alkmene  lay  upon  his  knee,  and 
Diana  at  his  feet.  His  countenance  was  pale,  and  betrayed 
fatigue,  but  his  eye  beamed  with  undimmed  brilliancy,  and 
around  his  mouth  played  an  ironical  smile.  "  Well,  so  mat- 
ters stand;  therefore,  I  have  summoned  you  to  Welsdorf," 
said  Frederick  to  his  minister,  Von  Herzberg.  "  The  empress- 
queen  is,  above  all  things,  a  most  tender  mother.  She  is 
fearfully  anxious,  now  that  the  dear  young  Emperor  Joseph 
has  left  for  the  army,  and  will  be  exposed  to  the  dangers  of 
war.  My  good  friends  in  Vienna  inform  me  that  my  entrance 
into  Bohemia  created  a  sensation  at  the  brilliant  capital,  and 
had  so  much  alarmed  the  empress-queen,  that  she  was 
seriously  thinking  of  negotiating  for  peace.  As  I  learned 
this  from  a  reliable  source,  I  halted  and  encamped,  that  the 
empress  should  know  where  to  find  me,  and  sent  to  summon 
you  immediately.  I  had  not  been  here  three  days,  when  the 
empress's  ambassador,  Baron  von  Thugut,  appeared  to  make 


200  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

offers,  and  consult  about  an  armistice  of  two  weeks.  I  made 
known  my  conditions,  and  promised  the  empress,  through  her 
negotiator,  that  I  would  so  calculate  my  movements  that  her 
majesty  would  have  nothing  to  fear  for  her  blood  and  her 
cherished  emperor.*  Voila,  mon  cher  ministre,  you  know  all 
now.  If  the  Austrian  diplomat  comes  a  second  time,  you  can 
negotiate  with  him, " 

"Is  your  majesty  also  inclined  to  peace?"  asked  Herzberg. 

The  king  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  When  it  can  be  ar- 
ranged with  honor,  yes,"  said  he.  "I  will  acknowledge, 
Herzberg,  to  you,  the  campaign  is  hard  for  me.  The  old 
fellow  of  sixty-eight  feels  the  burden  of  life,  and  would  gladly 
rest  quietly,  and  enjoy  the  last  few  years  as  philosopher  and 
writer  instead  of  soldier." 

"Your  majesty  has  yet  many  years  to  live,  God  willing," 
cried  Herzberg.  "  It  would  be  a  great  misfortune  to  Prussia 
if  she  could  not  yet  owe  to  her  great  king  a  long  and  happy 
reign. " 

" Hem!"  replied  the  king,  "  there  are  in  Prussia  very  many 
who  think  otherwise,  and  wish  me  to  the  devil.  But  I  have 
no  intention  of  seeking  monsieur  so  soon,  for  there  are  suf- 
ficient devilish  deeds  to  endure  in  this  earthly  vale  of  sorrow  to 
prepare  for  one  a  very  decent  purgatory,  and  give  him  here- 
after well-founded  hopes  of  heaven.  Therefore  I  count  upon 
remaining  here  below  a  while,  and  to  knead  with  you  this 
leaven  of  life  that  may  yield  to  my  subjects  an  eatable  bread. 
You  must  help  me,  Herzberg,  when  I  am  the  baker,  to  pro- 
vide the  flour  for  my  people ;  you  must  be  the  associate  to 
knead  the  bread.  In  order  that  the  flour  should  not  fail,  and 
the  bread  give  out,  it  may  be  necessary,  if  possible,  to  make 
peace." 

"  Will  your  majesty  be  so  gracious  as  to  inform  me  what 
steps  I  may  take,  and  upon  what  conditions?" 

"  Take  this  paper,"  said  the  king,  extending  a  written  doc- 
ument to  Herzberg.  "  I  have  therein  expressed  my  wishes, 

*  The  king's  words.— See  "  Prussia,  Frederick  the  Great,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  102. 


THE  KING  AND  THE  AUSTRIAN  DIPLOMAT.         201 

and  you  can  act  accordingly.  I  am  prepared  for  peace  upon 
any  terms  which  can  be  made  with  honor,  and  which  do  not 
frustrate  the  aim  I  have  in  view.  You  well  know  that  this 
aim  is  the  security  of  Germany  against  Austria's  ambitious 
love  of  territorial  aggrandizement!  I  cannot  and  I  will  not 
suffer  that  the  house  of  Hapsburg  should  strive  for  unjust 
possession  in  Germany,  and  appropriate  Bavaria  to  herself 
while  a  lawful  heir  exists.  I  well  know  that  I  play  the  role 
of  Don  Quixote,  and  am  about  to  fight  for  the  rights  of  Ger- 
many as  the  Chevalier  de  la  Mancha  fought  for  his  Dulcinea 
del  Toboso.  Mais,  que  voulez-vous,  it  is  necessary  for  my 
fame  and  repose  that  I  enter  the  arena  once  more  against 
Austria,  to  prove  to  her  that  I  exist.  I  take  this  step  on  ac- 
count of  the  prestige  I  have  gained  in  the  German  empire, 
and  which  I  should  lose  if  I  had  not  faced  Austria  in  this 
Bavarian  contest.  And  besides,  it  is  agreeable  to  me  to  ac- 
custom my  successor  to  the  thunder  of  cannon,  and  witness 
his  bearing  on  the  field  of  battle." 

"  He  will  certainly  do  honor  to  the  heroic  race  of  Hohen- 
zollern,"  answered  Herzberg,  bowing. 

A  sudden  flash  from  the  king's  fiery  eyes  met  the  calm  pale 
face  of  Herzberg.  "  Mere  words  and  flattery,  which  prove 
that  you  are  not  satisfied,  Herzberg !  Nay,  nay,  do  not  deny 
it;  you  do  not  like  that  I  should  tarry  and  treat,  and  set  the 
pen  in  motion  instead  of  the  sword.  You  are  a  man  of  deeds, 
and  if  you  had  had  your  way,  I  should  have  already  won  a 
decisive  battle,  and  be  on  the  road  to  Vienna  to  besiege  the 
empress  in  her  citadel,  and  dictate  an  humiliating  peace  to 
her. " 

"  Your  majesty,  I  can  assure  you — " 

"Well,  well,  do  not  quarrel!"  interrupted  the  king;  "  do 
you  suppose  I  cannot  read  your  honest  and  obstinate  face? 
Do  you  suppose  I  did  not  mean  what  I  said?  Acknowledge 
that  I  am  right!  confess  it,  I  command  you!" 

"  If  your  majesty  commands  it,  then  I  will  acknowledge  it. 
Yes,  I  did  wish  tLat  your  majesty  had  not  empowered  Barou 
14 


202  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA 

von  Thngut  to  return  for  further  negotiations.  It  would 
have  been  well  if  your  majesty  had  marched  victorious  to 
Vienna,  to  let  the  proud  Hapsburgers  see  for  once  that  Fred- 
erick of  Prussia  does  not  stand  behind  them,  but  at  their  side; 
that  he  has  created  a  new  order  of  things;  that  the  old, 
mouldy,  rotten  statutes  of  the  imperial  sovereignty  have  fallen 
in  the  dust  before  Frederick  the  Great ;  that  Germany  must 
be  newly  mapped  out,  in  order  to  give  room  near  the  old  man 
Austria  for  young  Prussia.  Yes,  your  majesty,  I  could  have 
wished  that  you  had  even  been  less  generous,  less  noble  toward 
the  supercilious,  insolent  enemy,  and  have  accepted  no  con- 
ditions but  those  of  'equality  for  Prussia  with  Austria  in  the 
German  empire!' ' 

"My  dear  sir,  I  am  truly  astonished  at  the  vigor  with 
which  you  express  yourself;  I  am  very  glad  to  find  you  so  en- 
thusiastic," said  Frederick,  nodding  to  his  minister;  "but 
listen — I  will  confide  to  you  that  which  I  do  not  wish  you  to 
repeat :  I  am  no  longer,  to  my  regret,  what  you  so  flatteringly 
call  me,  'Frederick  the  Great,'  but  only  'Old  Fritz.'  Do  you 
understand  me?  the  latter  is  a  deplorable,  worn-out  soldier, 
who  no  longer  feels  power  or  vigor.  The  lines  of  Boileau 
often  recur  to  me  on  mounting  my  horse : 

'  Unfortunate  one,  leave  thy  steed  growing  old  in  peace, 
For  fear,  that,  panting  and  suddenly  out  of  breath, 
In  falling,  he  may  not  leave  his  master  upon  the  arena  1 ' 

It  is  the  misery  of  life  that  man  will  grow  old,  and  that  the 
body,  when  worn  and  weary,  will  even  subdue  the  spirit,  and 
force  her  to  fold  her  wings  and  suffer.  I  did  not  realize  that 
it  had  gone  so  far  with  me,  and  I  imagined  that  the  winged 
soul  could  raise  the  old,  decayed  body.  Therefore  I  risked, 
in  spite  of  my  lazy  old  age,  to  undertake  this  war,  for  I  rec- 
ognized it  as  a  holy  duty  to  enter  into  it,  for  the  honor  and 
justice  of  our  country,  and  prove  to  the  Emperor  of  Germany 
that  he  could  not  manage  and  rule  at  his  will  in  the  German 
empire.  I  long  not  for  the  honor  of  new  laurels,  but  I  should 
be  satisfied,  as  father  of  my  subjects,  to  gain  a  civil  crown. 


OLD  FRITZ. 


THE  KING  AND  THE  AUSTRIAN  DIPLOMAT.         203 

There  you  have  my  creed.  I  have  as  sincerely  confessed  to 
you  as  my  respectable  cousin,  the  empress-queen,  to  her  con- 
fessor ;  only  I  did  not  fall  upon  my  knees  to  you,  and  you  do 
not,  as  the  said  confessor,  betray  me  to  the  Holy  Father  at 
Rome." 

"  Your  majesty  well  knows  that  every  word  which  you  have 
the  grace  to  confide  to  me,  is  engraved  upon  my  inmost  soul, 
and  that  no  power  upon  earth  could  force  me  to  reveal  it." 

"  I  know  that  you  are  a  true  and  zealous  servant  of  your 
king  and  country,"  said  Frederick.  "Once  more  I  say  to 
you,  other  than  an  honorable  peace  I  will  not  make ;  and  if 
the  empress-queen  does  not  accept  the  abandonment  of 
Bavaria  as  the  basis  of  peace,  then  I  must  conquer  my  aver- 
sion to  war,  and  the  sword  must  arrange  what  the  pen  has 
failed  to  do.  And  now,passons  ladessus!  Until  Thugut  ar- 
rives, let  us  speak  of  other  things.  I  have  been  tolerably 
industrious,  and  have  improved  the  leisure  of  camp-life  as 
much  as  possible.  I  have  written  a  panegyric  upon  Voltaire, 
and  when  it  is  revised  and  corrected  you  shall  arrange  an 
anniversary  in  memoriam,  at  the  Berlin  Academy,  and  read 
my  eulogy." 

"  All  Germany  and  all  Europe  will  be  surprised  at  the  mag- 
nanimity of  the  royal  mind  which  could  occupy  itself  in  the 
camp  with  the  muse,  and  erect  an  imperishable  monument  to 
the  man  who  witnessed  such  ingratitude  and  baseness  to  his 
benefactor  and  protector." 

"  Vous  allez  trop  vite,  mon  cherj  vraiment,  trop  vite,"  cried 
Frederick,  ardently.  "  It  is  true  Voltaire  was  a  miserable 
fellow,  but  he  was  a  great  poet.  He  returned  meanness  and 
ingratitude  to  me  for  the  many  kindnesses  I  showed  to  him, 
for  I  treated  him  more  like  a  friend  than  a  king.  Voltaire 
was  my  benefactor,  in  so  far  that  I  owed  to  him  the  most 
agreeable  and  elevating  hours  of  my  youth.  In  memory  of 
these  hours  I  have  written  this  eulogy.  It  is  not  worthy  of 
particular  mention,  and  the  Academic  Franqaise  will  doubt- 
less severely  criticise  my  knowledge  of  their  language.  But  it 


204  OLD  FRITZ;  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

is  impossible  to  write  well,  one  moment  in  camp  and  another 
on  the  march.  If  it  is  unworthy  of  him  whom  it  was  in- 
tended to  celebrate,  I  have  at  least  availed  myself  of  the  free- 
dom of  the  pen,  and  will  cause  to  be  publicly  read  in  Berlin 
what  one  dares  not  whisper  in  Paris."  * 

"I  shall  be  most  happy  to  be  the  instrument  to  make 
known  this  generous  expression  of  your  majesty's  good-will," 
remarked  Herzberg,  bowing. 

Frederick  smiled,  adding:  "  But  with  the  other  work  which 
I  have  commenced,  you  are  not  quite  satisfied.  You  are  such 
an  enthusiastic  German,  that  you  presume  to  assert  that  the 
intolerable  German  jargon  is  a  beautiful  and  expressive  lan- 
guage !"- 

"And  I  abide  by  this  decision,  your  majesty,"  zealously 
cried  Herzberg.  "  The  German  language  is  euphonious,  and 
prolific  in  ideas,  and  it  is  well  capable  of  rivalling  in  brevity 
and  clearness  those  of  the  ancients." 

"  That  you  have  already  asserted,  and  I  have  contested  it, 
and  again  I  contest  it  to-day.  Do  not  trouble  me  with  your 
German  language.  It  will  only  deserve  notice  when  great 
poets,  distinguished  orators,  and  admirable  historians,  have 
given  it  their  attention  and  corrected  it,  freeing  it  from  such 
disgusting  and  effeminate  phrases  as  now  disfigure  it,  and 
cause  one  to  use  a  mass  of  words  to  express  a  few  ideas.  At 
present  it  is  only  an  accumulation  of  different  dialects,  which 
every  division  of  the  German  empire  thinks  to  speak  the  best, 
and  of  which  twenty  thousand  can  scarcely  understand  what 
the  other  twenty  thousand  are  saying!"  f 

"  Sire,"  cried  Herzberg,  with  vehemence,  "  should  a  German 
king  thus  speak  of  his  native  tongue,  at  the  same  time  that  he 
takes  the  field  to  vindicate  the  honor  of  Germany,  and  sub- 
mits to  all  the  miseries  and  hardships  of  war?  Your  majesty 
cannot  be  in  earnest,  to  despise  our  beautiful  language." 

*  The  king's  own  words. — "Posthumous  Works,"  vol.  xv.,  p.  109.  This  eulogy 
upon  Voltaire,  which  the  king  wrote  in  camp,  Herzberg  read,  in  the  November  fol- 
lowing, before  the  Academy. 

t  The  king's  own  words.— See  "  Posthumous  Works,"  vol.  xv. 


THE  KING  AND  THE  AUSTRIAN  DIPLOMAT.         205 

"  I  do  not  despise  it ;  I  only  say  that  it  must  be  reformed, 
and  shorn  of  its  excrescences.  Until  then  we  must  use  the 
French,  which  is  to-day  the  language  of  the  world,  and  in 
which  one  can  render  all  the  master-works  of  the  Greeks  and 
the  Latins,  with  the  same  versatility,  delicacy,  and  subtlety, 
as  the  original.  You  pretend  that  one  can  well  read  Tacitus  in 
a  German  translation,  but  I  do  not  think  the  language  cap- 
able of  rendering  the  Latin  authors  with  the  same  brevity  as 
the  French." 

"  Sire,  to  my  joy,  I  can  give  you  proof  to  the  contrary. 
A  Berlin  savant,  Conrector  Moritz,  at  my  request,  has  trans- 
lated a  few  chapters  of  the  fourteenth  book  of  the  'Annals  of 
Tacitus,'  word  for  word,  most  faithfully  into  German.  He 
has  written  it  in  two  columns,  the  translation  at  the  side  of 
the  original.  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  bring  this  work  with 
me,  and  you  will  see  how  exactly,  and  with  what  brevity, 
Latin  authors  can  be  rendered  into  German,  and  that  there 
are  young  learned  men  who  have  seized  the  spirit  of  our  lan- 
guage, and  know  how  to  use  it  with  grace  and  skill." 

"  Indeed,  give  it  to  me,"  cried  the  king,  zealously.  "  I  am 
truly  curious  to  admire  the  German  linguist's  work  who  has 
so  boldly  undertaken  to  translate  Tacitus." 

"Sire, "said  Herzberg,  raising  his  eyes  knowingly,  with 
a  mild,  imploring  expression  to  the  king's  face — "  sire,  I  join 
a  request  with  this  translation." 

"  What  is  it?  I  am  very  curious  about  a  petition  from  you, 
it  is  so  seldom  that  you  proffer  one." 

"  Your  majesty,  my  request  concerns  the  translator  of  this 
very  chapter  of  Tacitus.  He  is  Conrector  Moritz,  attached 
to  the  Gray  Cloister  in  Berlin — an  unusually  gifted  young 
man,  who  has  undoubtedly  a  brilliant  future  before  him.  He 
has  already  written  many  eminent  works.  The  Director 
Gedicke  recommended  him  to  me  as  a  most  distinguished, 
scholarly  person,  and  I  have  learned  to  know  and  appreciate 
the  young  man  by  this  means." 

"I  see  it,"  nodded  the  king.     "You  speak  of  him  with 


206  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

great  enthusiasm,  and  as  what  you  so  warmly  recommend  is 
generally  able  and  well  qualified,  I  begin  to  be  interested  in 
this  Herr  Moritz.  When  I  return  to  Berlin — and  Heaven 
grant  that  it  may  be  soon ! — I  will  at  once  empower  you  to 
present  this  luminary.  Are  you  satisfied?" 

"  Sire,  dare  I  ask  still  more?  I  would  beg  your  majesty  to 
grant  this  young  man  an  audience  at  once." 

"  How,  at  once !  Is  this  phcenix  here,  who  so  interests  my 
Minister  Herzberg?  Where  is  he  from,  and  what  does  he 
wish?" 

"  He  is  from  Berlin ;  I  met  him  making  the  journey  on 
foot.  He  sat  upon  a  stone,  by  the  wayside,  eating  a  piece  of 
bread,  with  a  glowing  face,  and  so  absorbed  talking  to  himself 
in  Latin  that  he  heard  not  the  creaking  of  my  carriage 
through  the  sand.  I  recognized  him  immediately,  and  called 
him  by  name.  He  turned,  perfectly  unembarrassed  and  not 
at  all  ashamed  to  have  been  discovered  in  such  an  humble  and 
poor  position." 

"That  is  to  say,  he  is  a  good  comedian,"  said  the  king. 
"  He  knew  that  you  would  drive  past  there,  and  placed  himself 
expressly  to  call  your  attention  to  him." 

"I  beg  pardon,  sire;  Conrector  Moritz  could  not  have 
known  that  I  would  take  this  journey.  You  will  recollect 
that  the  courier  arrived  at  midnight  with  your  majesty's 
commands,  and  two  hours  later  I  was  on  the  road,  and  have 
since  travelled  day  and  night.  As  I  met  the  young  man  only 
five  miles  from  this  place,  he  must  have  set  out  many  days 
before  I  thought  of  leaving  Berlin." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  the  king,  "  it  was  a  false  suspicion.  Yoii 
invited  him  into  your  carriage,  did  you  not?" 

"  I  did  very  naturally,  sire,  as  he  told  me  he  was  going  to 
beg  an  audience  of  your  majesty.  At  first  he  refused  de- 
cidedly, as  he  wished  to  travel  on  foot,  like  the  pilgrims  to 
the  pope  at  Rome." 

"An  original,  a  truly  original  genius,"  cried  the  king. 

"He  is  so  indeed,  and  is  so  called  by  all  his  friends." 


THE  KING  AND  THE  AUSTRIAN  DIPLOMAT.         207 

"  Has  he  any  friends?"  asked  the  king,  with  an  incredu- 
lous smile. 

"  Yes,  sire,  many  warm  and  sympathizing  friends,  who  are 
much  attached  to  him,  and,  on  account  of  his  distinguished 
and  brilliant  qualities,  are  willing  to  indulge  his  peculiarities. " 

"  Herzberg,  you  are  charmed,  and  speak  of  this  man  as  a 
young  girl  in  love!" 

"  Sire,  if  I  were  a  young  girl,  I  should  certainly  fall  in  love 
with  this  Moritz,  for  he  is  handsome." 

"  Diable  !  I  begin  to  fear  this  subject.  You  say  he  is  hand- 
some, learned,  wise,  and  good,  although  he  belongs  to  the 
airy,  puffed-up  Berliners.  Did  you  let  Herr  Moritz  wander 
on  in  his  pilgrimage?" 

"  No,  sire,  I  persuaded  him  at  last  to  accept  a  seat  in  my 
carriage,  by  explaining  to  him  that  your  majesty  might  soon 
leave  Welsdorf,  and  he  would  run  the  risk  of  not  arriving  in 
season.  Upon  no  condition  would  he  get  inside,  but  climbed 
up  behind,  for,  said  he,  with  a  firm,  decided  manner,  'I  go 
to  the  king  as  a  beggar,  not  as  a  distinguished  gentleman.'  " 

"Indeed  it  is  an  original,"  the  king  murmured  to  himself. 
"Do  you  know  what  the  man  wants?"  he  asked  aloud. 

"  No,  your  majesty;  he  said  that  his  business  concerned  the 
happiness  of  two  human  beings,  and  that  he  could  only  open 
his  heart  to  his  God  and  his  king." 

"  "Where  is  your  protege  ?  " 

"  He  stands  outside,  and  it  is  my  humble  request  that  youi 
majesty  will  grant  him  an  audience,  and  permit  me  to  call 
him." 

"  It  is  granted,  and — " 

Just  at  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  the  footman 
announced  that  the  private  secretary  of  his  highness  Prince 
von  Galitzin  had  arrived,  and  most  respectfully  begged  an 
audience. 

"  It  is  he — it  is  the  baron,"  said  the  king.  "  Tell  your  pro- 
tege he  must  wait,  and  come  again.  Bid  the  Prince  von 
Galitzin  enter." 


208  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

As  the  Minister  von  Herzberg  withdrew,  the  Baron  von 
Thugut  appeared,  the  extraordinary  and  secret  ambassador  of 
the  Empress  Maria  Theresa. 

"Well,  Herr  Baron,  you  are  already  returned,"  said  the 
king,  as  he  scarcely  nodded  to  the  profoundly  respectful  bows 
of  the  ambassador.  "  I  infer,  therefore,  that  your  instructions 
are  not  from  the  empress,  but  from  the  co-regent,  the  Em- 
peror Joseph,  who  has  betaken  himself  to  the  Austrian  camp." 

"Sire,"  answered  Thugut,  laconically,  "I  have  driven  day 
and  night,  and  have  received  my  instructions  directly  from 
the  empress." 

The  king  slowly  shook  his  head,  and  an  imperceptible 
smile  played  around  his  lips. 

"Does  the  young  emperor  approve  of  these  instructions?" 

"Sire,  his  majesty,  the  emperor,  is  only  the  co-regent," 
answered  Thugut,  hastily.  "It  is  not  therefore  necessary 
that  my  sovereign  should  make  her  decisions  dependent  upon 
her  son's  concordance." 

"The  empress  will  negotiate  for  peace,"  said  the  king  to 
himself,  "  but  the  emperor  desires  to  win  laurels  in  the  war, 
and  will  try  to  cut  off  the  negotiations  of  his  mother  by  a 
coup  de  main.  One  must  be  on  his  guard !" 

Just  then  the  door  opened  and  Herzberg  returned. 

"You  perceive  I  expected  you,  Baron  von  Thugut,"  said 
the  king,  "  and  I  ordered  here  my  minister  of  state,  Herr  von 
Herzberg.  This  is  the  Baron  von  Thugut,  my  dear  minister, 
the  ambassador  of  the  empress-queen,  who  carries  in  his 
pocket  peace  or  war,  as  it  may  be." 

"  Sire,  I  must  protest  against  being  so  important  a  person- 
age, as  peace  and  war  alone  depend  upon  your  majesty.  It 
alone  depends  upon  the  lofty  King  of  Prussia  whether  he  will 
give  peace  and  tranquillity  to  Germany,  or  suffer  the  guilt  of 
permitting  the  bloody  scourge  of  civil  war  again  to  tear  in 
pieces  the  unhappy  German  nation." 

"That  sounds  very  sentimental,"  cried  the  king,  smiling. 
"  The  Baron  von  Thugut  will  appeal  to  my  heart,  when  we 


THE  KING  AND  THE  AUSTRIAN  DIPLOMAT.         209 

have  only  to  do  with  the  head.  Austria  wishes  to  be  the  head 
of  Germany,  and  as  such  would  devour  one  German  state 
after  another,  as  a  very  palatable  morsel.  But  if  you  will 
be  the  head,  Monsieur  le  Baron,  you  cannot  represent  the 
stomach  also,  for,  as  I  have  been  told,  it  only  exists  in 
those  soft  animals  of  the  sea  whose  head  is  in  their 
stomach,  and  which  think  and  digest  at  the  same  time.  Aus- 
tria does  not  belong  to  this  class,  but  has  rather  a  very  hard 
and  impenetrable  shell.  We  cannot  let  her  devour  as  stomach 
what  as  the  head  she  has  chosen  as  booty.  That  the  electorate 
of  Bavaria  is  not  to  be  devoured,  is  the  necessary  and  funda- 
mental preliminary  upon  which  the  temple  of  peace  may  be 
erected.  If  you,  or  rather  the  empress-queen,  agree  to  it,  the 
negotiations  can  be  concluded  by  you  two  gentlemen.  But  if 
you  think  to  erect  a  temple  of  peace  upon  any  other  basis, 
your  propositions  will  be  in  vain.  I  have  not  taken  the  field 
to  make  conquests,  but  to  protect  the  rights  of  a  German 
prince,  and  not  suffer  others  to  appropriate  a  German  state. 
I  know,  as  you  have  said,  that  war  is  a  bloody  scourge  for 
the  nation;  but,  sir,  we  will  not  look  at  it  in  a  sentimental 
light,  and  talk  of  civil  war,  when  Austria  herself  compels  us 
to  take  the  field.  Or,  perhaps,  you  imagine  to  prove  to  my 
good  Pomeranians,  Markers,  and  my  other  German  states, 
that  the  Croatians,  Pandurians,  Hungarians,  Wallachians, 
Italians,  and  Polanders,  are  our  German  brothers,  which  im- 
perial Austria  opposes  to  us.  I  think  this  brotherhood  may 
be  traced  to  our  common  ancestor,  Adam,  and  in  this  sense 
all  wars  are  indeed  civil  wars.  In  any  case  war  is  a  scourge 
for  man,  and  I  am  convinced  that  the  empress-queen  would 
just  as  willingly  spare  her  Croatians,  Pandurians,  Wal- 
lachians, and  Galicians,  as  I  all  my  German  subjects  col- 
lectively." 

"Also  your  majesty's  Polish  subjects,  as  may  be  expected," 
added  Baron  von  Thugut. 

"My  Polish  subjects  are  the  minimum  portion,  and  are 
about  in  proportion  to  th*>  German  population  as  in  imperial 


210  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

Austria  the  German  is  to  the  foreign.  But  enough  of  this; 
if  I  do  not  recognize  this  as  a  civil  war,  it  is  indeed  a  great 
misfortune.  I  would  do  every  thing  to  avoid  it — every  thing 
compatible  with  the  honor  and  glory  of  my  house,  as  well  as 
that  of  Germany  in  general.  Therefore  let  us  know  the  views 
of  the  empress-queen!" 

"Sire,"  answered  Von  Thugut,  as  he  slowly  untied  and  un- 
folded the  documents,  "  I  beg  permission  to  read  aloud  to 
your  majesty  the  acts  relative  to  these  points." 

"K"o,  baron,"  answered  the  king  quickly,  "  the  more  minute 
details  give  to  my  minister ;  I  wish  only  the  contents  in  brief. " 

"  At  your  majesty's  command.  The  empress-queen  declares 
herself  ready  to  renounce  the  concluded  treaty  of  inheritance 
to  the  succession  of  Bavaria  at  the  death  of  Elector  Charles 
Theodore ;  also  to  give  up  the  district  seized,  if  Prussia  will 
promise  to  resign  the  succession  of  the  Margraves  of  Anspach 
and  Baireuth,  and  let  them  remain  independent  principal- 
ities, governed  by  self-dependent  sovereigns." 

"  That  means,  that  Austria,  who  will  unjustly  aggrandize 
herself  by  Bavaria,  will  deprive  Prussia  of  a  lawful  inheri- 
tance!" cried  the  king,  his  eyes  flashing  anger.  "I  will  not 
heed  the  after -cause,  but  I  wish  to  satisfactorily  understand 
the  first  part  of  the  proposition,  that  Austria  will  cede  her 
pretensions  to  Bavaria." 

"Sire,  upon  conditions  only  which  are  sufficient  for  the 
honor,  the  wishes,  and  necessities  of  my  lofty  mistress." 

"You  hear,  my  dear  Herzberg,"  said  the  king,  smiling, 
and  turning  to  his  minister,  "  c'e&t  tout  comme  chez  nous.  It 
will  now  be  your  task  to  find  out  these  conditions,  which  too 
closely  affect  the  honor  of  one  or  the  other.  For  this  purpose 
you  will  find  the  adjacent  Cloister  Braunau  more  convenient 
than  my  poor  cabin.  At  the  conferences  of  diplomats  much 
time  is  consumed,  while  we  military  people  have  little  time 
to  spare.  I  shall  move  on  with  my  army." 

"How,  then!  will  your  majesty  break  up  here?"  cried 
Thugut,  with  evident  surprise. 


THE  KING  AND  THE  AUSTRIAN  DIPLOMAT.         211 

The  king  smiled.  "  Yes,  I  shall  advance,  as  my  remaining 
might  be  construed  equal  to  a  retreat.  The  arts  of  diplomacy 
may  drag  on  until  the  imperialists  have  assembled  all  their 
foreign  subjects  to  the  so-called  civil  war.  Then  hasten  the 
negotiations,  Baron  von  Thugut,  for  every  day  of  diplomatic 
peace  is  one  day  more  of  foraging  war,  and  I  know  not  that 
you  count  the  Bohemians  in  the  German  brotherhood,  to 
whom  the  calamity  of  war  is  ruinous.  You  have  now  to 
deal  with  the  Baron  von  Thugut,  my  dear  Herzberg,  and  I 
hope  the  baron  will  accept  some  diplomatic  campaigns  with 
you  in  Cloister  Braumau." 

"  Sire,  I  accept,  and  if  your  majesty  will  dismiss  me,  I  will 
go  at  once  to  the  cloister,"  answered  Baron  von  Thugut, 
whose  manner  had  become  graver  and  more  serious  since  the 
king's  announcement  of  the  intended  advance. 

"  You  are  at  liberty  to  withdraw.  The  good  and  hospitable 
monks  have  already  been  apprised  of  your  arrival  by  an  ex- 
press courier,  and  have  doubtless  a  good  supper  and  a  soft  bed 
awaiting  you." 

"  Had  your  majesty  the  grace  to  be  convinced  of  my  re- 
turn?" asked  Thugut. 

"  I  was  convinced  of  the  tender  heart  of  the  empress- 
queen,  and  that  she  would  graciously  try  once  more,  in  her 
Christian  mercy,  to  convert  such  an  old  barbarian  and  heretic 
as  I  am.  Go  now  to  the  cloister,  and  when  I  pass  by  in  the 
morning,  with  my  army,  I  will  not  fail  to  have  them  play  a 
pious  air  for  the  edification  of  the  diplomats — such  as,  'My 
soul,  like  the  young  deer,  cries  unto  Thee,'  or,  'Oh,  master, 
I  am  thy  old  dog,'  or  some  such  heavenly  song  to  excite  the 
diplomats  to  pious  thoughts,  and  therewith  I  commend  you  to 
God's  care,  Baron  von  Thugut." 

The  king  charged  Herr  von  Herzberg  to  play  the  role  of 
grand-chamberlain,  and  accompany  the  ambassador  to  his 
carriage,  smiling,  and  slightly  nodding  a  farewell. 

The  baron  was  on  the  point  of  leaving,  when  the  king 
called  to  him. 


212  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Had  your  majesty  the  grace  to  call  me?"  asked  Thugut, 
hastily  turning. 

"Yes!"  answered  Frederick,  smiling,  and  pointing  to  the 
string  which  had  served  to  bind  the  baron's  papers.  "  You 
have  forgotten  something,  my  lord,  and  I  do  not  like  to  en- 
rich myself  with  others'  property."  * 

Baron  von  Thugut  took  this  last  well-aimed  stab  of  his 
royal  opponent  somewhat  embarrassed,  and  hastened  to  pick 
up  the  string,  and  withdraw. 


CHAPTEK    XX. 

THE   KING   AND  THE   LOVER. 

THE  king  smiled,  glancing  at  the  retreating  figure  of  the 
baron,  and  approached  the  window  to  peep  through  the  little 
green  glass  panes  to  see  him  as  he  passed  by. 

"A  sly  fox,"  said  he,  smiling,  "but  I  will  prove  to  him 
that  we  understand  fox-hunting,  and  are  not  deceived  by 
cunning  feints." 

"Will  your  majesty  really  break  up  to-day?"  asked  Von 
Herzberg,  upon  returning. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  minister.  That  is  to  say,  I  do  not  wish  to, 
but  I  must,  in  order  to  give  the  negotiations  for  peace  a  war- 
like character.  The  enemy  asks  for  delay  to  finish  their  prep- 
arations for  war — not  peace.  The  negotiations  for  the  latter 
emanate  from  the  empress,  but  the  conditions  concerning 
Anspach  come  from  the  emperor.  It  is  the  Eris-apple,  which 
he  casts  upon  the  table,  by  which  his  imperial  mother  and  I 
would  gladly  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace.  It  is  incumbent  upon 
you,  Herzberg,  to  negotiate  for  peace,  while  I  pick  up  the 
apple  and  balance  it  a  little  upon  the  point  of  my  sword.  I 
shall  leave  early  to-morrow,  but  I  would  speak  with  you  be- 
fore I  set  out.  You  must  be  weary  with  the  journey,  so  rest 

*  Historical.    The  king's  words.— See  Honuayr. 


THE  KING  AND  THE  LOVER.  213 

awhile  now,  then  dine  with  me,  and  afterward  go  to  the 
conference." 

"  Sire,  will  you  not  receive  my  protege,  Conrector  Moritz?" 

"  Did  you  not  say  that  he  begged  for  a  secret  audience?" 

"  Yes,  sire,  he  has  for  this  purpose  travelled  the  long  dis- 
tance from  Berlin,  and  I  assure  your  majesty,  upon  my  word 
of  honor,  that  I  have  not  the  least  suspicion  what  his  petition 
may  be." 

"  Eh  Men,  say  to  your  protege  that  I  grant  him  the  sought- 
for  interview  on  your  account,  Herzberg.  You  are  such  a 
curious  fellow — you  are  always  petitioning  for  others  instead 
of  yourself,  and  the  benefits  which  you  ought  to  receive  go  to 
them.  Let  Moritz  enter,  and  then  try  to  sleep  a  little,  that 
you  may  be  wide  awake  to  confer  with  Baron  von  Thugut." 

Minister  von  Herzberg  withdrew,  and  immediately  the  pale, 
earnest  face  of  Conrector  Philip  Moritz  appeared  in  the  royal 
presence. 

The  king  regarded  him  with  a  prolonged  and  searching 
glance,  the  noble,  resolute  face  of  whom  was  pallid  with  deep 
grief,  but  from  whose  eyes  there  beamed  courageous  energy. 
"  Are  you  the  translator  of  the  chapters  from  Tacitus,  which 
my  Minister  Herzberg  handed  me?"  asked  the  king,  after  a 
pause. 

"Yes,  sire,"  gently  answered  Moritz. 

"I  am  told  that  it  is  ably  done,"  continued  his  majesty, 
still  attentively  observing  him.  "  You  will  acknowledge  that 
it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  render  the  concise  style  of  Tacitus 
into  the  prolix,  long-winded  German?" 

"  Pardon  me,  sire,"  replied  Moritz,  whose  youthful  impetu- 
osity could  with  difficulty  be  diverted  from  the  real  object  of 
his  pilgrimage.  "  Our  language  is  by  no  means  long-winded, 
and  there  is  no  difficulty  in  translating  Latin  authors  into 
German,  which  equals  any  living  tongue  in  beauty  and 
sonorousness,  and  surpasses  them  all  in  depth  of  thought, 
power,  and  poesy." 

" Diable!  "  cried  the  king,  smiling;  "you  speak  like  an  in- 


214  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

carnate  German  philologist,  who  confounds  the  sound  of 
words  with  profound  thought.  You  will  acknowledge  that 
until  now  our  language  has  not  been  much  known." 

"Sire,"  answered  Moritz,  "Martin  Luther,  in  his  trans- 
lation of  the  Bible  three  hundred  years  since,  employed  hun- 
dreds of  beautiful,  expressive  formations." 

"He  is  not  only  a  learned  man,"  said  the  king  to  himself, 
"but  he  seems  an  honorable  one;  and  now,  as  I  have  proved 
his  scholarly  attainments,  I  must  indulge  his  impatience." 
The  king's  penetrating  glance  softened,  and  his  features 
changed  their  severe  expression.  "  The  Minister  von  Herz- 
berg  informed  me  that  he  found  you  by  the  roadside,  and 
that  you  would  journey  hither  on  foot." 

"It  is  true,  sire." 

"Why  did  you  travel  in  that  manner?" 

"  Sire,  I  desired,  as  the  poor,  heavily-laden  pilgrims  .of  the 
middle  ages,  to  make  the  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Father  at 
Eome,  who  was  the  king  of  kings.  Every  step  in  advance 
seemed  to  them  to  lighten  their  burden  and  enhance  their 
happiness.  Your  majesty  is  in  our  day  what  the  pope  was 
held  to  be  in  the  middle  ages,  therefore  I  have  wandered  as  a 
pilgrim  to  my  king,  who  has  the  power  to  bind  and  to  loose, 
and  from  whom  I  must  not  only  implore  personal  happiness, 
but  that  also  of  a  good  and  amiable  young  girl." 

"Ah!  it  concerns  a  love-affair.  As  I  now  look  at  you,  I 
can  understand  that.  You  are  young  and  passionate,  and  the 
maidens  have  eyes.  How  can  I  help  you  in  such  an  ad- 
venture?" 

"  Sire,  by  not  granting  a  title  to  a  certain  person,  or  if  it 
must  be  granted,  annul  the  conditions  attendant  upon  it." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  answered  the  king,  harshly. 
"  Speak  not  in  riddles.  What  do  you  mean?" 

"  General  Werrig  von  Leuthen  has  addressed  himself  to  you, 
sire,  praying  for  the  consent  of  your  majesty  to  the  marriage 
of  his  daughter  with  the  banker  Ebenstreit.  Your  majesty 
has  consented,  and  added  that  Herr  Ebenstreit  shall  take  the 


THE  KING  AND  THE  LOVER.  215 

name  of  his  future  father-in-law,  and  the  marriage  shall  take 
place  as  soon  as  the  title  of  nobility  has  been  made  out." 

The  king  nodded.  "For  which  the  new-made  nobleman 
has  to  pay  a  hundred  louis  d'ors  to  the  Invalids  at  Berlin. 
But  what  is  that  to  you?  And  what  connection  has  Herr 
Ebenstreit's  title  to  do  with  Conrector  Moritz?" 

Moritz's  face  brightened,  and,  deeply  moved,  he  answered: 
:  Sire,  I  love  the  daughter  of  General  von  Leuthen,  and  she 
returns  my  love.  By  not  ennobling  Ebenstreit,  it  lies  in  your 
power,  most  gracious  majesty,  to  make  two  persons  the  most 
blessed  of  God's  creatures,  who  desire  nothing  more  than  to 
wander  hand  in  hand  through  life,  loving  and  trusting  each 
other." 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  the  king,  with  a  searching  glance. 

Moritz  quailed  beneath  it,  and  cast  down  his  eyes.  "No!" 
he  replied.  "  As  I  now  stand  in  the  presence  of  your  majesty, 
I  am  sensible  of  the  boldness  of  my  undertaking,  and  words 
fail  me  to  express  what  is  burning  in  my  soul.  Oh!  sire,  I 
only  know  that  we  love  each  other,  and  that  this  love  is  the 
first  sunbeam  which  has  fallen  upon  my  gloomy  and  thorny 
path  of  life,  and  awakened  in  my  lonely  heart  all  the  bloom 
of  feeling.  You  smile,  and  your  great  spirit  may  well  mock 
the  poor  human  being  who  thinks  of  personal  happiness, 
when  for  an  idea  merely  thousands  are  killed  upon  the  field 
of  battle.  My  life,  sire,  has  been  a  great  combat,  in  which  I 
have  striven  with  all  the  demons  escaped  from  Pandora's  box. 
I  have  grown  up  amid  privations  and  need.  I  have  lived  and 
suffered,  until  God  recompensed  my  joyless,  toiling,  hungered 
existence  by  this  reciprocated  love,  which  is  a  beautiful  orna- 
ment to  my  life,  and  is  life  itself,  and  to  renounce  it  would 
be  to  renounce  life.  I  am  young,  sire,  and  I  long  for  the  un- 
known paradise  of  earthly  happiness,  which  I  have  never 
entered  until  now,  and  which  I  can  only  attain  led  by  the 
hand  of  my  beloved.  I  yearn  just  once,  as  other  privileged 
men,  to  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  happiness  a  long,  beautiful 
summer  day,  and  then  at  the  golden  sunset  to  sink  upon  my 


216  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

knees  and  cry,  '  I  thank  Thee,  0  God,  that  in  Thy  goodness  I 
have  recognized  Thy  sublimity,  and  that  Thou  hast  revealed 
thy  glory  to  me. '  All  this  appears  of  little  importance  to 
your  majesty,  for  the  heart  of  a  king  is  not  like  that  of  other 
men,  and  the  personal  happiness  of  individuals  appears  a 
matter  of  little  account  to  him  who  thinks  and  works  for  the 
good  of  an  entire  nation.  But  the  fly,  sire,  which  is  sunning 
itself  upon  the  plumes  of  the  helmet  of  a  victorious  king,  has 
its  right  to  happiness,  for  God  created  it  with  the  same  care 
and  love  that  He  created  the  noblest  of  His  creatures — man ! 
and  it  would  be  cruel  to  kill  it  without  necessity.  Sire,  I  do 
not  extol  myself.  I  know  that  in  your  eyes  I  am  no  more 
than  the  fly  upon  your  helmet,  but  I  only  implore  you  to 
grant  me  my  life,  for  God  has  given  it  to  me. " 

"  You  mean  by  this  that  I  shall  forbid  General  von  Leuthen 
to  marry  his  daughter  to  the  rich  man  who  seeks  her,  and  to 
which  marriage,  understand  me  well,  I  have  already  given  my 
consent. " 

"  Sire,  I  only  know  that  this  union  drives  not  only  me  to 
despair,  but  one  of  the  noblest  and  best  of  God's  creatures. 
Fraulein  von  Leuthen  does  not  love  the  bridegroom  forced 
upon  her;  she  detests  him,  and  she  has  good  reason  to,  for 
the  banker  Ebenstreit  is  a  cold-hearted,  purse-proud  man, 
enfeebled  by  a  voluptuous,  vicious  life,  and  seeks  nothing 
nobler  and  more  elevated  in  the  young  girl  to  whom  he  has 
offered  his  hand,  than  the  title  and  noble  name  which  she  can 
procure  for  him.  Your  majesty,  I  implore  not  for  myself, 
but  for  the  daugther  of  a  man  who  once  had  the  good  fortune 
to  save  your  life  in  battle !  Have  pity  upon  her,  and  do  not 
sacrifice  her  to  an  inconsolably  hopeless  life  by  the  side  of  an 
unloved  and  detested  husband!" 

The  king  slowly  shook  his  head.  "  You  forget  that  the 
general  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  this  favor  has  begged  my 
consent  to  this  marriage,  and  that  I  have  granted  it." 

"  Sire,  I  conjure  you  to  recall  it !  Upon  my  knees  I  implore 
you  not  to  grant  it  1  Do  not  make  two  people  unhappy,  who 


THE  KING  AND  THE  LOVER.  217 

only  beg  of  your  majesty  the  permission  to  love  and  live  with 
each  other!"  Moritz  threw  himself  at  the  king's  feet,  pray- 
ing with  clasped  hands,  his  face  flushed  with  deep  emotion, 
and  his  eyes  dimmed  with  tears. 

"Rise!"  commanded  Frederick,  "rise,  do  not  kneel  to  me 
as  to  a  God.  I  am  a  feeble  mortal,  subject  to  the  same  ills 
which  threaten  you  and  the  whole  human  race.  Rise,  and 
answer  me  one  question — are  you  rich?" 

'  No,"  answered  Moritz,  proudly  raising  his  head;  "no,  I 
am  poor." 

"Do  you  know  that  Fraulein  von  Leu  then  is  poor?  Her 
father  is  worse  off  than  Job,  for  he  is  in  debt." 

"  If  General  von  Leu  then 's  daughter  were  rich,  or  even 
moderately  well  off,  I  never  would  have  presumed  to  address 
your  majesty  on  the  subject,  for  fear  that  you  might  mis- 
construe my  intentions,  and  suppose  that  my  love  was  inspired 
"by  self-interest.  Fortunately,  Marie  possesses  nothing  but 
her  noble,  beautiful  self.  She  leads  a  joyless  existence  under 
the  severe  discipline  of  her  cold-hearted  parents;  and  there- 
fore I  can  truthfully  say,  that  with  me  she  will  lose  nothing, 
"but  gain  what  she  has  never  known — a  tranquil,  happy  life, 
protected  by  my  love." 

"How  much  salary  do  you  receive  as  teacher?" 

"  Majesty,  as  conrector  of  the  college  attached  to  the  Gray 
Monastery,  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars." 

"Do  you  expect  to  live  upon  that  yourself,  and  support  a 
family  besides?" 

"  Sire,  I  shall  earn  money  in  other  ways,  as  I  have  already 
done.  I  shall  write  books.  The  publishers  tell  me  that  I 
am  a  favorite  author,  and  they  pay  me  well." 

"  If  on  the  morrow  you  should  fall  ill,  your  income  would 
vanish,  and  your  family  and  you  would  starve  together.  No! 
no.'  you  are  an  idealist,  you  dream  how  life  should  be,  and 
not  as  it  is  in  truth!  I  have  listened  to  you,  thinking  that 
you  would  present  some  forcible  argument  upon  which  to 
found  your  pretensions,  but  I  heir.'  only  the  ravings  of  a  lover, 
15 


218  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

who  believes  the  world  turns  upon  the  axis  of  his  happiness. 
Let  me  tell  you  that  love  is  an  ephemera,  which  merrily  sports 
in  the  sunlight  a  few  short  hours,  and  dies  at  sunset.  Should 
a  king  forfeit  his  word  for  such  a  short-lived  bliss?  Should 
he  reward  a  man  to  whom  he  is  indebted  by  depriving  him 
of  a  rich  son-in-law,  who  is  agreeable  to  him,  and  substituting 
a  poor  one,  from  whom  he  can  never  hope  to  receive  a  com- 
fortable maintenance?  You  young  people  are  all  alike.  You 
think  only  of  yourselves,  and  it  is  a  matter  of  little  conse- 
quence to  you  if  the  aged  pine  away  and  die,  provided  you 
build  up  happiness  on  their  graves!  I  ask  you,  who  have 
talked  so  much  about  your  own  wishes,  and  those  of  your  be- 
loved, where  is  it  written  that  man  must  be  happy,  that  there 
is  a  necessity  to  make  him  so?  Do  you  suppose  that  I  have 
ever  been  happy — who  have  a  long,  active  life  in  retrospec- 
tion? Mankind  have  taken  good  care  that  I  should  not  sip 
this  nectar  of  the  gods,  and  have  taught  me  early  to  renounce 
it.  Life  is  not  consumed  in  pleasure,  but  in  toil,  and  I  be- 
lieve its  only  happiness  consists  in  the  fact  that  at  last,  when 
weary  and  worn,  we  will  sink  into  the  grave — to  an  eternal 
rest!  Every  human  being  must  work  according  to  his  abil- 
ities, and  in  the  position  which  Fate  has  assigned  to  him. 
To  maintain  this  position,  his  honor  is  at  stake — the  best  and 
most  sacred  gift  confided  to  man.  You  will  not  desert  it — 
not  despair  in  life  because  your  dream  of  bliss  is  not  realized." 

"Sire,"  answered  Moritz,  with  a  cry  of  anguish,  "it  is  no 
dream,  but  a  reality!" 

"Happiness  is  only  ideal,"  said  the  king,  slowly  shaking 
his  head.  "  What  we  sigh  for  to-day,  we  curse  on  the  morrow 
as  a  misfortune.  Let  this  serve  as  a  lesson  to  you.  Toil 
on — you  are  a  scholar;  woo  Science  for  your  bride.  Her 
charms  will  never  fade.  In  youth  as  in  old  age  she  will  at- 
tract you  by  her  beauty  and  constancy — that  which  you  can- 
not hope  for  from  women." 

"Sire,"  asked  Moritz,  in  deep  dejection,  "will  you  not 
grant  the  petition  of  my  heart?  Will  you  condemn  this  poor, 


THE  KING  AND  THE  LOVER.  219 

innocent  young  girl  who  prays  your  majesty  through  me,  to  a 
long,  joyless  existence,  to  a  daily-renewing  sorrow?" 

The  king  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  have  already  said 
that  happiness  is  imaginary ;  I  might  have  added  unhappiness 
also.  General  von  Leu  then 's  daughter  will  accustom  herself 
to  the  misfortune  of  being  a  rich  man's  wife,  and  finally  will 
drive  with  a  smiling  face  in  her  four-in-hand  gilded  carriage !" 

"  Sire,  I  swear  to  you  that  you  mistake  this  dear,  noble- 
hearted  young  girl,  you — " 

"  Enough!"  interrupted  the  king.  "  I  have  given  my  con- 
sent to  General  von  Leuthen,  and  I  cannot  recall  it.  More- 
over, the  marriage  of  the  daughter  of  my  general  with  you 
would  be  a  misalliance — ridiculous.  In  the  republic  of  intel- 
lect and  science,  you  may  have  a  very  high  position,  but  in 
my  earthly  kingdom  you  hold  too  modest  a  one  to  presume  to 
raise  your  eyes  to  a  noble  young  lady.  I  regret  that  I  can 
offer  you  no  other  consolation  than  to  listen  to  reason,  and  be 
resigned.  As  we  cannot  bring  down  the  moon  to  earth,  we 
must  content  ourselves  with  a  lamp  to  light  up  our  small 
earthly  abode.  If  this  ever  should  fail  you,  then  come  to  me 
and  I  will  assist  you.  I  cannot,  to  be  sure,  give  you  the 
moon,  for  that  belongs  as  little  to  me  as  the  bride  of  the  rich 
Herr  Ebenstreit  von  Leuthen.  One  cannot  give  away  that 
which  one  does  not  possess.  Farewell !  return  to  Berlin,  and 
resign  yourself  bravely  to  your  fate.  Accustom  yourself  to 
the  thought  that  in  fourteen  days  Fraulein  von  Leuthen  will 
become  the  wife  of  your  wealthy  rival.  The  wedding  cere- 
mony awaits  only  the  papers  of  nobility,  for  which  my  order 
has  already  been  forwarded  to  Berlin.  I  moreover  propose  to 
you  not  to  return  to  the  college  at  once,  but  travel  for  two 
weeks.  I  will  be  responsible  for  your  absence,  and  provide 
you  with  the  necessary  means.  Now  tell  me  whether  you 
accept  my  proposal?" 

"  Thanks  to  your  majesty,  I  cannot,"  answered  Moritz,  with 
calm  dignity.  "  There  is  but  one  balm  which  my  king  could 
grant  me.  Money  is  not  a  plaster  to  soothe  and  heal  a 


220  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

wounded  heart.  Sire,  I  beg  you  to  dismiss  me,  for  I  will  re- 
turn at  once  to  Berlin." 

"  I  hope  that  you  have  not  the  foolish  idea  to  return  on 
foot,"  said  the  king.  "  My  courier  will  leave  in  an  hour,  and 
there  are  two  places  in  the  coupe,  accept  one  of  them." 

"Sire,"  said  Moritz,  gloomily,  "I — "suddenly  the  words 
died  on  his  lips,  and  his  eyes  beamed  with  an  unnatural  fire, 
which  paled  under  the  observing  glance  of  the  king.  "  I 
thank  you,"  said  Moritz,  gasping,  "I  will  accept  it." 

The  king  nodded.  "  Au  revoir,  in  Berlin!  When  I  re- 
turn after  the  campaign  I  will  send  for  you.  You  will  then 
have  learned  to  forget  your  so-called  misfortune,  and  smile  at 
your  pilgrimage!" 

"  I  cannot  think  so,  sire." 

"  I  am  convinced  of  it.     Farewell." 

Moritz  answered  the  royal  salutation  with  a  mute  bow,  and 
withdrew  with  drooping  head  and  sorrowful  heart.  The  king 
continued  to  regard  him  with  an  expression  of  deep  sadness. 
"  Ah  !"  he  sighed,  "  how  enviable  are  those  who  can  still  be- 
lieve in  love's  illusion,  and  who  have  not  awakened  from 
their  dream  of  bliss  by  sad  experience  or  age !  How  long 
since  I  have  banished  these  dreams — how  long  I — " 

The  king  ceased,  his  head  sank  back  upon  his  chair,  his 
large,  fiery  eyes,  peering  into  the  distance,  as  if  he  would  re- 
people  it  with  the  memories  of  youth,  with  the  delusions 
from  which  he  had  so  long  awakened.  Those  lovely,  charm- 
ing forms  flitted  before  him  one  by  one  which  had  then  cap- 
tivated him  :  the  beautiful  Frau  von  "Wrechem,  his  first  love, 
and  to  whom  he  had  vowed  eternal  constancy;  another  sweet, 
innocent  face  that  suffered  shame  and  degradation  for  him — 
"oh!  Doris,  Doris,  dream  of  my  youth,  fly  past!" — and  now 
the  face  with  the  large  eyes  and  energetic  features,  which 
turned  so  tenderly  to  him,  that  of  his  sister  Frederika,  who 
from  affection  to  the  crown  prince  had  sacrificed  herself  to  an 
unloved  husband  in  order  to  reconcile  the  son  with  the  father, 
and  preserve  for  him  the  inheritance  to  the  throne;  still  an- 


THE  KING  AND  THE  LOVER  221 

other  calm  and  gentle  face,  with  the  expression  of  sorrowful 
resignation  in  the  deep-blue  eyes,  that  of  his  wife,  who  had 
so  passionately  loved  him,  and  had  faded  away  at  his  side  un- 
loved !  All  past — past.  A  new  face  arose,  the  pretty  Leon- 
tine  von  Morien,  the  tourbillon  of  the  princely  court  at 
Rheinsberg,  who  pined  away  in  sighs.  Now  passed  the 
sweetest  and  loveliest  of  all.  The  king's  eyes,  which  stared 
into  empty  space,  now  beamed  with  glad  recognition.  The 
heart  which  had  grown  old  and  sobered  beat  with  feverish 
rapidity,  and  the  compressed  lips  whispered,  sighing,  "  Bar- 
barina!"  She  stood  before  him  in  her  bewitching  beauty, 
with  the  charming  smile  upon  her  ruby  lips,  and  passionate 
love  beaming  from  her  flashing  eyes.  "  Oh,  Barbarina!"  The 
king  rose,  a  cold  chill  crept  over  him.  He  looked  around  so 
strangely  in  the  desolate,  darkened  room,  as  if  he  could  still 
see  this  form  which  greeted  him  with  the  sad  smile  and  tear- 
ful glance.  No  one  was  there.  He  was  quite  alone.  Only 
the  feeble  echo  of  far-distant  days  repeated  the  device  of  his 
youth — of  his  life :  "  Soffri  e  tad !  Eesignation  alone  has 
remained  true  to  me.  But  no — there  is  still  another  friend, 
my  flute.  Come,  you  faithful  companion  of  my  life !  You 
have  witnessed  my  sorrows,  and  from  you  I  have  nothing  to 
conceal!"  He  tenderly  regarded  it,  for  it  was  long  since  he 
had  taken  it  from  its  case.  The  sorrows  and  cares  of  life, 
the  suffering  from  the  gout  which  raged  in  his  teeth,  and 
sad,  sobering  old  age,  had  caused  him  to  lay  it  aside,  but  with, 
the  habit  of  affection  he  carried  it  everywhere.  Frederick 
felt  himself  grow  young  again  with  the  souvenirs  of  former 
days,  and  essayed  to  recall  the  echo  of  tenderer  feelings  upon 
his  flute.  The  music  of  his  heart  was  hushed,  the  melodious 
tones  of  former  days  would  not  return.  The  king  laid  it 
aside  with  an  impatient  movement.  "  Nothing  is  lasting  in 
life,"  he  murmured.  A  flourish  of  trumpets,  a  peal  of  drums 
announced  that  the  regiment  was  passing  which  would  parade 
before  the  king.  What  are  they  playing,  which  rouses  the 
lonely  king  with  bright  memories  and  shouts  of  victory?  It 


222  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

is  the  march  which  his  majesty  composed  after  the  brilliant 
victory  of  Hohenfriedberg.  The  king  raised  his  eyes  grate- 
fully to  heaven,  repeating  aloud :  "  There  is  something  last- 
ing in  life.  Love  ceases  and  music  dies  away,  but  the  good 
we  have  accomplished  remains.  The  most  glorious  of  earthly 
rewards  is  granted  to  those  who  have  achieved  great  deeds — 
the  mortal  becomes  immortal — the  gods  ceding  to  him  that 
which  is  more  elevating  than  love  or  happiness — fame.  Ye 
trumpets  of  Hohenfriedberg,  ye  will  still  quiver  when  I  am 
gone,  and  relate  to  succeeding  generations  about  '  Old  Fritz. ' 
Such  tales  are  well  worthy  to  live  and  suffer  for !  I  am  com- 
ing, ye  trumpets  of  fame."  With  youthful  activity  and 
beaming  face  the  king  went  out  to  receive  his  generals,  who 
saluted  him  with  silent  reverence,  and  his  soldiers,  who 
greeted  their  beloved  commander  and  king  with  an  exultant 
shout. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

IN   WEIMAR. 

"  THERE  lies  dear  Weimar,  encircled  in  its  wreath  of  green. 
Do  you  not  see  it,  Wolf?  I  will  refresh  my  heart  with  its 
view;  so  halt,  postilion,  halt,"  cried  the  duke.  "It  is  more 
beautiful  to  me  than  stately,  proud  Berlin.  Though  a  poor, 
gray  nest,  I  could  press  it  to  my  heart,  with  all  its  untidy 
little  houses,  and  tedious  old  pedants.  Let  us  walk  down  the 
hill,  Wolf." 

"Most  willingly,"  cried  Goethe,  stretching  forth  his  arms 
to  the  little  town,  nestled  in  the  peaceful  valley,  "be  wel- 
come, you  lovely  paradise,  with  your  angels  and  serpents; 
ve  press  on  toward  you  with  all  our  heart  and  soul,  as  to  the 
seven-sealed  book,  filled  with  mysteries,  and  we  would  draw 
glorious  revelations  from  your  hidden  contents." 

"  And  grant,  ye  gods,  that  the  inspired  one  may  at  last 


IN  WEIMAR.  223 

break  the  seal  which  a  cruel  friend  has  placed  upon  her  lips, 
that  he  may  not  drink  the  kiss  of  love  glowing  beneath,"  said 
the  duke,  smiling.  "  Do  you  not  see  the  gray  roof  yonder, 
with  its  background  of  tall  trees,  that — " 

"  The  house  where  dwells  my  beloved,  my  dearest  friend, 
my  sister,  and  the  mistress  of  my  heart,"  interrupted  Goethe. 
rt  She  is  all  this,  for  she  is  my  all  in  all.  The  fountains  of 
bliss  and  love  which  here  and  there  I  have  drawn  from,  re- 
freshing my  heart  and  occupying  my  mind,  flow  toward  her, 
united  in  one  broad,  silvery  stream,  with  heaven  and  earth 
mirrored  therein,  and  revealing  wonderful  secrets  in  its  rush- 
ing waves." 

"Ah,  Wolf!"  cried  the  duke,  "you  are  a  happy,  enviable 
creature,  free  and  unfettered,  sending  your  love  where  it 
pleases  you.  My  dear  Wolf,  I  advise  you  never  to  marry, 
for — " 

Goethe  hastily  closed  the  duke's  mouth  with  his  hand. 
"  Hush !  not  a  word  against  the  noble  Duchess  Louisa,  my 
master  and  friend.  She  is  an  example  of  refined,  womanly 
dignity ;  and  you,  Charles,  are  to  be  envied  the  love  of  so  es- 
timable a  wife  and  sweet  mother  for  your  children." 

"  Indeed  I  am,"  cried  the  duke,  enthusiastically.  "  I  could 
not  have  found  a  more  high-minded,  lovely  wife,  or  a  more 
excellent,  virtuous  mother  for  my  descendants.  But  you 
know,  Wolf,  that  your  Charles  has  still  another  heart,  very 
susceptible  and  tender,  which  seeks  for  an  affinity  to  call  its 
own,  and  vent  itself  in  the  pleasures  of  youth,  in  glorious 
flirtations,  melancholy  signs,  and  blissful  longings.  You  can- 
not expect  me  at  twenty-two  to  play  the  grandfather,  and 
have  no  eyes  or  heart  for  other  captivating  women,  though  I 
love  my  young  wife  most  affectionately,  and  bless  Fate  that  I 
am  bound  with  silken  cords  to  Hymen's  cart — though  I  am 
forever  bound,  and  you,  Wolf,  are  happily  free!" 

"  Because  grim  Fate  refuses  to  unite  me  to  my  beloved. 
Oh,  Charlotte,  if  you  were  free,  how  blessed  would  I  be,  en- 
chained by  you!  Not  to  'Hymen's  cart,'  as  the  fortunate 


224  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

mocker  says,  but  to  the  chariot  of  Venus,  drawn  by  doves, 
enthroned  upon  which  you  Avould  bear  me  to  heaven!" 

"Do  not  blaspheme,  Wolf,"  cried  the  duke;  "rather  kneel 
and  thank  the  gods  that  you  are  not  fettered  and  your  wings 
clipped.  They  wish  to  preserve  to  you  love's  delusion,  be- 
cause you  are  a  favorite,  and  deny  you  the  object  adored. 
Beware  of  the  institution  which  the  French  actress,  Sophie 
Arnould,  has  so  wittily  called  the  'consecration  of  adultery.' 
You  will  agree  with  me  that  we  have  many  such  little  sacrn 
ments  in  our  dear  Weimar,  and  I  must  laugh  when  I  reflect 
for  what  purpose  those  amiable  beauties  have  married,  as  not 
one  of  them  love  their  husbands,  but  they  all  possess  a  friend 
besides. " 

"  The  human  heart  is  a  strange  thing,"  said  Goethe,  as  they 
descended  the  hill,  arm  in  arm,  "  and  above  all  a  woman's 
heart !  It  is  a  sacred  riddle,  which  God  has  given  Himself  to 
solve,  and  that  only  a  God  could  unravel!" 

At  this  instant  a  flash  of  lightning,  followed  by  heavy 
rolling  thunder,  was  heard. 

"Hear,  Wolf — only  hear!"  laughed  Charles — "God  in 
heaven  responds,  and  confirms  your  statement." 

"  Or  punishes  me  for  my  bold  speech,"  cried  Goethe,  as  the 
hailstones  rattled  around  him  hitting  his  face  with  their 
sharp  points.  "Heaven  is  whipping  me  with  rods." 

"  And  our  carriage  has  descended  with  a  quick  trot  into 
the  valley,"  said  the  duke.  "I  will  call  it."  He  sprang  into 
the  middle  of  the  road,  making  a  speaking-trumpet  of  his 
hands,  and  shouted  in  a  full,  powerful  voice,  "  Oho,  postilion ! 
here,  postilion!" 

The  continued  rolling  of  the  thunder,  the  whistling  wind, 
and  rattling  hail,  made  all  attempts  inaudible.  The  two 
gentlemen  sought  shelter  under  the  thick  crowns  of  the  oak- 
trees  by  the  wayside,  which  formed  an  impenetrable  roof  to 
the  flood  of  rain. 

"  I  know  nothing  more  sublime  than  a  thunder-storm,"  said 
Goethe,  looking  up  as  if  inspired ;  "  when  the  thunder  rolls 


IN  WEIMAR.  225 

in  such  awful  majesty  and  wrath,  it  seems  as  if  I  heard  Pro- 
metheus in  angry  dispute  with  the  gods.  In  the  dark  clouds 
I  see  the  Titan,  enveloped  in  mist,  overspreading  the  heavens, 
and  raising  his  giant-arm  to  hurl  his  mighty  wrath."  At 
this  instant  a  flash  of  lightning,  followed  by  a  deafening  peal 
reverberated  in  one  prolonged  echo  through  the  hills. 

"Do  you  not  hear  him,  Charles?"  cried  Goethe,  delighted 
— "  hear  all  the  voices  of  earth  united  in  the  grumbling  thun- 
der of  his  wrath?  See,  there  he  stands,  yonder  in  heaven — 
his  form  dark  as  midnight.  I  hear  it — he  calls — 

Overshadow  the  heavens,  O  Jupiter, 

With  thy  vaporous  clouds  1 
Cut  off  the  oak  and  mountain-tops 

As  a  boy  plucks  the  thistle. 
Leave  me  earth  and  my  cabin 

Which  thou  hast  not  built, 
And  my  hearth  side, 

The  glow  of  which  thou  enviest  me  I 
I  know  naught  so  miserable 

As  you  gods — you — " 

Again  the  mighty  peal  silenced  Goethe,  who  looked  to  heaven 
with  defiance  flashing  from  his  eyes  and  his  clinched  hand 
upraised,  as  if  he  were  Prometheus  himself  menacing  the 
gods. 

"Proceed,  Wolf,"  cried  the  duke,  as  the  echo  died  away. 
"  How  can  you,  yourself  a  god,  be  so  excited  with  the  anger 
of  like  beings?  Proceed!" 

The  uplifted  arm  of  the  poet  sank  at  his  side,  and  the  fiery 
glance  was  softened.  "  No  human  word  is  capable  of  express- 
ing what  Prometheus  just  spoke  in  thunder,"  said  Goethe, 
musingly,  "  and  I  humbly  feel  how  weak  and  insignificant  we 
are,  and  how  great  we  think  ourselves,  while  our  voice  is  like 
the  humming  beetle  in  comparison  to  this  voice  from  the 
clouds." 

"  Be  not  desponding,  "Wolf,  your  own  will  ring  throughout 
Europe ;  every  ear  will  listen  and  every  heart  will  compre- 
hend, and  centuries  later  it  will  delight  with  its  freshness  and 
beauty.  The  storm  passes  and  dies  away,  but  the  poet  lives 


226  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

in  his  heavenly  melodies  through  all  time.  You  must  finish 
'Prometheus'  for  me,  Wolf.  I  cannot  permit  you  to  leave  it 
as  a  fragment.  I  will  have  it  in  black  and  white,  to  refresh 
myself  in  its  beauty  bright.  A  spark  of  your  divine  talent  is 
infused  into  my  soul,  and  I  begin  to  rhyme.  Ah,  Wolf,  all 
that  is  elevated  within  me  I  owe  to  you,  and  I  bless  Fate  for 
according  you  to  me." 

"  And  I  also,  dear  Charles,"  said  Goethe,  feelingly.  "  For, 
fostered  and  protected  by  your  noble  mind  and  nature,  my 
inmost  thoughts  develop  and  blossom.  We  give  and  receive 
daily  from  each  other,  and  so  mingle  the  roots  of  our  being 
that,  God  willing,  we  will  become  two  beautiful  trees,  like 
the  oak  which  now  arches  over  us.  But  see,  the  rain  is  fast 
ceasing,  and  the  sun  looks  out  by  the  clinched  hand  of  Pro- 
metheus. We  can  now  travel  on  to  the  loved  spot." 

"  Oh,  Wolf,  are  you  in  love?  None  but  a  lover  could  say 
the  rain  has  ceased,  when  it  pours  down  so  that  we  should  be 
drenched  before  we  could  arrive  at  Weimar.  But  hark!  I 
hear  a  carriage  in  the  distance ;  we  may  be  favored  with  a 
shelter." 

The  duke  stepped  out  from  under  the  trees,  and  looked 
along  the  highway  with  his  sharp  hunter's  eye.  "  A  vehicle 
approaches,  but  no  chance  for  us,  as  it  appears  to  be  a  farm- 
wagon,  crowded  with  men  and  women." 

"  Indeed  it  does,"  said  Goethe,  joining  him;  "  a  very  merry 
company  they  are  too,  singing  gayly. .  Now,  grant  the  rain 
rain  has  ceased — " 

•'Charlotte  von  Stein  is  at  Weimar,"  interrupted  the  duke. 
"  Give  me  your  arm,  and  we  will  walk  on. " 

They  advanced  briskly  arm  in  arm.  A  stranger  meeting 
them  would  have  supposed  that  they  were  brothers,  so  much 
alike  were  they  in  form,  manners,  and  dress,  for  the  duke  as 
well  as  Goethe  wore  the  Werther  costume. 

As  they  descended,  the  carriage  came  nearer  and  nearer. 
The  duke's  keen  eye  had  not  been  deceived.  It  was  a  farm- 
wagon,  filled  with  a  frolicsome  party,  sitting  on  bags  of  straw 


IN  WEIMAR.  227 

for  cushions.  They  were  chatting  and  laughing  absorbed  in 
fun,  and  did  not  observe  the  two  foot-passengers,  who  turned 
aside  from  them.  A  sudden  cry  of  surprise  hushed  the  con- 
versation ;  a  form  rose,  half  man  and  half  woman,  enveloped 
in  a  man's  coat  of  green  baize,  crowned  with  a  neat  little  hat 
of  a  woman.  "Oh,  it  is  Charles!"  cried  the  form,  and  at 
the  same  instant  the  duke  sprang  to  the  wagon.  "  Is  it  pos- 
sible, my  dear  mother?" 

"The  Duchess  Amelia!"  cried  Goethe,  astonished. 

"Yes,"  laughed  the  duchess,  greeting  them  with  an  affec- 
tionate look.  "  The  proverb  proves  itself — 'Like  mother,  like 
son.'  On  the  highway  mother  and  son  have  met.  You 
should  have  done  the  honors  in  a  stately  equipage. " 

"May  I  be  permitted  to  ask  where  you  come  from?"  asked 
the  duke.  "And  the  dress,  of  what  order  do  you  wear?" 

"  We  walked  to  Zief  urt,  and  intended  to  walk  back.  Thus- 
nelda  is  so  delicate  and  weak,  that  she  complained  of  her  fairy 
feet  paining  her,"  answered  the  duchess,  laughing. 

"Ah,  duchess,  must  I  always  be  the  butt?"  cried  the  lady 
behind  the  duchess,  crouching  between  the  straw-sacks. 
"  Must  I  permit  you  to  follow  in  my  footsteps,  while  I — " 

"Hush,  Gochhausen — hush,  sweet  Philomel,"  interrupted 
the  duke,  "  or  the  Delphic  riddle  of  this  costume  will  be 
apparent." 

"  It  is  easily  explained,"  said  the  duchess.  "  No  other  con- 
veyance was  to  be  had,  and  my  good  Wieland  gave  me  his 
green  overcoat  to  protect  me  from  the  pouring  rain."  * 

"  And  from  to-day  forth  it  will  be  a  precious  palladium," 
cried  the  little  man  with  a  mild,  happy  face  on  the  straw  by 
the  duchess. 

"  And  there  is  Knebel  too,"  shouted  the  duke  to  the  gentle- 
man who  just  then  pulled  the  wet  hood  of  his  cloak  over  his 
powdered  hair. 

"  Our  treasurer  Bertuch,  Count  Werther,  and  Baron  von 
Einsiedel  also." 

*  True  anecdote.— See  Lewes'  "  Goethe's  Life  and  Writings,"  vol.  i.,  p.  406. 


OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

not  your  highness  ask  after  our  bewitching  coun- 
tess?" asked  Gochhausen,  in  her  fine,  sharp  voice.  "  The 
countess  is  quite  ill — is  she  not,  Count  Werther?" 

"I  believe  so,  they  say  so,"  answered  the  count,  rather 
absent-minded.  "  I  have  not  seen  her  for  some  days." 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  duke,  as  Goethe  was  en- 
gaged in  a  lively  conversation  with  the  duchess.  "  Is  the  dear 
countess  dangerously  ill?" 

"Oh,  no,"  answered  Gochhausen,  ''not  very  ill,  only  in 
love  with  genius,  a  malady  which  has  attacked  us  all  more  or 
less  since  that  mad  fellow  Wolfgang  Goethe  has  raged  in  Wei- 
mar, and  made  it  a  place  of  torment  to  honorable  people. 
Oh,  Goethe — oh,  Wolf!  with  what  lamb-like  innocence  we 
wandered  in  comfortable  sheep's  clothing  until  you  came  and 
fleeced  us,  and  infected  us  with  your  'Sturm  und  Dranger' 
malady,  and  made  us  fall  in  love  with  your  works!" 

"  Gochhausen,  hold  your  malicious  tongue,  and  do  not  hide 
your  own  joy  beneath  jest  and  mockery,"  cried  the  duchess. 
"  Acknowledge  that  you  are  rejoiced  to  see  your  favorite,  and 
that  you  will  hasten  to  write  to  Madam  Aja,  'Our  dear  duke 
has  returned,  and  my  angel,  my  idol,  Wolfgang,  also.'  I 
assure  you,  Goethe,  Thusnelda  loves  you,  and  was  exceedingly 
melancholy  during  your  absence.  If  asked  the  cause  of  her 
sadness,  she  wept  like — " 

"Like  a  crocodile,"  said  the  duke.  "Oh,  I  know  those 
tears  of  Fraulein  Gochhausen;  I  could  relate  stories  of  her 
crocodile  nature.  Mother,  how  can  you  have  such  a  monster 
in  your  society?  Why  not  make  the  cornes,  that  the  little 
devils  may  fly  away?" 

"Very  good,"  cried  the  little,  crooked  lady.  "I  see  your 
highness  has  not  changed  by  this  journey.  Where  have  you 
been,  dear  duke?  Oh,  I  remember;  you  flew  over  the  Rhine, 
and  have  flown  home  again  quite  unchanged." 

All  laughed,  the  duke  louder  than  any  one.  "  Gochhausen, 
you  are  a  glorious  creature,  and  the  Arminius  is  to  be  envied 
who  appropriates  this  Thusnelda.  Oh,  I  see  the  charming 


IN  WEIMAR.  229 

youth  before  me,  who  has  the  courage  to  make  this  German 
wife  his  own!" 

"  I  will  scratch  his  eyes  out?"  cried  Gochhausen,  "  and  then 
the  Countess  Werther  can  play  Antigone,  and  lead  him  around 
as  (Edipus.  Why  shut  your  eyes,  Einsiedel?  I  do  not 
scratch  quite  yet." 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  that,"  said  the  baron,  astonished. 

"You  never  think  that  every  one  knows;  but  did  you  not 
do  it  so  soon  as  you  understood  the  Countess  Werther  shoull 
lead  blind  (Edipus  as  Antigone?" 

Before  the  count  could  answer,  the  court  lady  turned  again 
to  the  duke.  "What  did  your  highness  bring  me?  I  hope 
you  have  not  forgotten  that  you  promised  me  a  handsome 
present." 

"  No,  I  have  not  forgotten  it ;  I  have  brought  my  Thus- 
nelda  a  souvenir — such  a  gift!" 

"  What  is  it,  your  highness?" 

"  A  surprise  which,  if  Thusnelda  is  clever,  she  must  think 
about  all  night. — But,  Goethe,  is  it  not  time  to  leave  the 
ladies?" 

"Wait,  I  command  you  both,"  said  the  Duchess  Amelia, 
extending  her  hand  to  her  son,  who  pressed  it  to  his  lips  most 
affectionately.  "  I  have  given  out  invitations  for  a  soiree,  for 
this  evening.  My  daughter-in-law,  the  Duchess  Louisa,  has 
accepted,  duke,  and  Frau  von  Stein  also,  Goethe.  I  hope  to 
see  you  at  Belvedere,  gentlemen.  The  poet  Gleim  is  in  town, 
and  will  read  his  late  'Muse  Almanach.'  May  I  not  expect 
both  of  you?" 

They  joyfully  consented,  gazing  after  the  merry  society  as 
it  drove  away.  "  This  is  a  good  bite  for  the  poisonous 
tongues  of  the  honorable,"  cried  the  duke.  "My  mother  in 
a  farm-wagon,  with  Wieland's  green  overcoat  on,  and  the 
reigning  duke,  with  his  Goethe,  entering  his  capital  on  foot 
like  a  journeyman  mechanic,  after  a  long  journey!" 

"I  wish  we  were  there,  my  dearest  friend,"  sighed  Goethe. 

"Oh,  love   makes  you  impatient!     Come  on,  then.     But 


230  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW   ERA. 

listen,  we  must  play  Gochhausen  a  trick;  I  have  promised 
her  a  surprise.  Will  you  help  me,  Wolf?" 

"With  pleasure,  duke." 

"  I  have  thought  of  something  very  droll,  and  your  servant 
Philip  must  help  us;  he  is  a  clever  fellow,  and  can  keep  his 
own  counsel." 

"He  is  silent  as  the  grave,  duke." 

"  That  is  necessary  for  such  a  gentleman  as  the  women  all 
run  after.  Let  us  skip  down  the  mountain,  and  then  forward 
where  our  hearts  incline  us.  This  afternoon  I  will  go  for  you 
and  bring  you  to  Belvedere,  and  then  we  can  talk  over  the 
surprise."  They  ran  down  the  declivity  into  the  suburb,  to 
the  terror  of  the  good  people,  who  looked  after  them,  saying 
that  the  young  duke  had  returned  with  his  mad  protege.  The 
"  mad  favorite"  seemed  more  crazy  than  ever  to-day,  for  after 
a  brief  farewell  to  the  duke,  he  bounded  through  the  streets 
across  the  English  park,  to  the  loved  house,  the  roof  of  which 
he  had  so  longingly  greeted  from  the  hillside.  The  door 
stood  open,  as  is  customary  in  small  towns,  and  the  servant  in 
the  vestibule  came  to  meet  him,  and  respectfully  announced 
that  her  master  had  gone  to  his  estate  at  Hochberg,  but  that 
Frau  von  Stein  was  most  probably  in  the  pavilion,  in  the  gar- 
den, as  she  had  gone  thither  with  her  guitar.  "Is  she 
alone?"  asked  Goethe.  The  servant  answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive, and  through  the  court  hastened  the  lover — not  through 
the  principal  entrance,  as  he  would  surprise  her,  and  read  in 
her  sweet  face  whether  she  thought  of  him.  Softly  he  opened 
the  little  garden  gate,  and  approached  the  pavilion  by  a  side- 
alley.  Do  his  feet  touch  the  ground,  or  float  over  it?  He 
knew  not;  he  heard  music,  accompanied  by  a  sweet,  melodious 
voice.  It  was  Charlotte's.  Goethe's  face  beamed  with  de- 
light and  happiness.  He  gazed  at  her  unseen,  not  alone 
with  his  eyes,  but  heart  and  soul  went  forth  to  her.  She  sat 
sideways  to  the  door;  upon  a  table  lay  her  notes,  and  the 
guitar  rested  upon  her  arm.  She  sang,  in  a  rich,  sweet  voice, 
Eeinhardt's  beautiful  melody : 


IN  WEIMAR.  231 

"  I'd  rather  fight  my  way  through  sorrows 
Than  bear  so  many  joys  in  life  ; 
All  this  affinity  of  heart  to  heart, 
How  strangely  it  causes  us  to  suffer  I " 

She  ceased,  as  if  overpowered  with  her  own  thoughts,  the 
guitar  sank  upon  her  lap,  and  her  fingers  glided  over  the 
chords,  so  that  the  tones  died  away  imperceptibly.  Her  deep- 
blue  eyes  gazed  pensively  in  the  distance,  and  the  sweet  lips 
repeated  softly,  "  How  strangely  it  causes  us  to  suffer!"  Near 
the  garden  entrance,  through  which  the  odor  of  sweet  flowers 
and  the  song  of  birds  was  wafted  with  every  gentle  zephyr, 
stood  Goethe,  looking  at  the  woman  whom  he  had  so  passion- 
ately loved  for  three  years,  so  absorbingly,  that  to  her  were 
consecrated  all  his  thoughts. 

He  could  contain  himself  no  longer;  he  rushed  forward  and 
threw  himself  at  her  feet.  "  Oh,  Charlotte,  I  love  you,  only 
you,  and  once  more  I  am  by  your  side!" 

A  shriek!  was  it  a  cry  of  surprise  or  delight?  Who  let  the 
guitar  fall  to  the  floor,  he  or  she?  Who  embraced  the  other 
in  affectionate  haste,  he  or  she?  Who  pressed  the  lips  so  lov- 
ingly to  the  other  lips,  he  or  she?  And  who  said,  "I  love 
you  ?  What  bliss  to  again  repose  in  your  affection,  I  would 
fain  die  now.  In  this  moment  a  whole  life  has  been  conse- 
crated, for  love  has  revealed  to  us  our  other  self." 

She  sat  upon  the  tabouret,  and  Goethe  still  knelt  before 
her,  clasping  her  feet  and  pressing  them  to  his  bosom.  His 
beautiful  eyes  beamed  with  inexpressible  delight  as  he  regarded 
the  face,  usually  so  calm  and  indifferent — to-day  glowing  as 
the  sunrise. 

"Oh,  tell  me,  Charlotte,  have  you  thought  of  me?  But 
no !  rather  speak  to  me  with  your  eyes,  and  may  they  be  more 
frank  than  the  cruel  lips  which  refuse  to  confess.  Oh,  shade 
not  those  loved  orbs,  which  are  my  stars  shining  upon  me, 
whithersoever  I  wander.  They  are  my  light,  my  spring-time, 
and  my  love.  They  will  never  cease  to  beam  upon  me,  as 
light  and  love  never  grow  old.  Let  me  read  eternal  youth  in 
those  eyes,  and  the  secrets  which  rest  as  pearls  in  the  depths 


232  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW   ERA. 

of  your  heart.  Only  tell  me,  is  the  pearl  of  love  to  be  found 
there,  and  is  it  mine?" 

"  It  would  be  a  misfortune  if  it  were  there,"  she  whispered, 
with  a  sweet  smile.  "  Pearls  are  the  result  of  a  malady,  and 
my  heart  would  be  ill  if  the  pearl  of  love  were  found  there. 
No,  no,  rise,  Wolf,  dear  Wolf,  we  have  given  away  at  the  first 
moment  of  meeting ;  let  us  now  be  reasonable,  and  speak  in  a 
dignified  manner  with  each  other,  as  it  becomes  a  married 
woman  and  her  friend." 

"Friend?"  repeated  Goethe,  impetuously;  "forever  must  I 
listen  to  this  hated,  hypocritical" word,  which,  like  a  priest's 
robe,  shall  cover  the  sacred  glow  in  my  heart?  I  have  told 
you,  Charlotte  that  I  am  not  your  friend,  and  I  never  shall 
be.  There  is  not  the  least  spark  of  this  still,  calm  fire  of  tho 
earthly  moderation  in  me,  by  which  one  could  cook  his  po- 
tatoes, or  his  daily  vegetables,  but  by  which  one  could  never 
prepare  food  for  the  gods,  or  that  which  could  refresh  a  poet's 
heart  or  quicken  his  soul.  No,  in  me  burns  the  fire  which 
Prometheus  stole  from  the  gods,  originating  in  heaven  and 
glowing  upon  earth.  This  heavenly  and  earthly  love  unites 
in  one  flame.  Again,  I  say,  Charlotte,  banish  this  hypocriti- 
cal word  'friendship!'  It  is  only  love  which  I  feel  for  you, 
let  this  sentiment  enter  at  every  avenue  of  your  heart,  and  do 
not  feign  ignorance  of  it,  sweet  hypocrite.  Surprise  has  torn 
away  the  mask !  The  passionate  kiss,  which  still  burns  upon 
my  lips,  was  not  given  by  a  friend  or  sister;  but  overcome 
by  joy,  the  truth  has  been  acknowledged!" 

"  Do  you  wish  that  the  kiss  of  meeting  should  be  that  of 
parting  also?"  said  Charlotte,  sadly,  as  she  raised  her  blue 
eyes  with  a  languishing  look  to  the  handsome,  ardent  face  of 
the  man  who  stood  before  her.  "  Do  you  wish  to  separate 
forever?  I  must  recall  to  you  our  last  conversation :  'Only 
when  you  are  resolved  to  moderate  this  impetuous  manner, 
and  curb  this  overflow  of  feeling,  which  reason  and  custom 
imposes  upon  us,  shall  I  be  able  to  recieve  you  and  enjoy  your 
society. ' " 


IN  WEIMAR.  233 

"Yes,  with  these  unmeaning  phrases  you  banished  me. 
Cruel  and  hard-hearted  were  you  to  the  last.  Oh,  Charlotte ! 
you  know  what  I  suffered  at  our  last  walk,  with  your  reason- 
ing remonstrances  and  cold-hearted  reproaches ;  they  pierced 
my  heart  like  poisoned  arrows.  If  the  duke  and  duchess  had 
not  been  walking  before  us,  I  should  have  wept  myeslf  weary. 
My  whole  being  cried  within  me:  'Oh!  cruel  and  inexorable 
woman,  to  beg  of  me,  who  so  unutterably  loves  her,  to  call 
her  friend  and  sister!'  I  repeated  the  words  daily  during 
my  absence,  and  sought  to  clothe  your  beloved  image  with 
their  meaning.  They  disfigured  you,  and  the  angel  whom  1 
adore  was  no  longer  recognizable.  I  cannot  call  you  friend 
or  sister." 

"Then  I  can  be  nothing  to  you,  dear  Wolfgang,"  sighed 
Charlotte.  "  In  this  hour  of  meeting  we  will  part,  and  to 
avoid  a  chance  encounter  even,  I  will  go  to  my  husband  at 
Kochberg,  and  remain  there  the  whole  summer." 

Goethe  seized  her,  holding  her  fast  in  his  strong  arms,  star- 
ing her  in  the  face  with  a  fierce,  angry  look.  "  Are  you  in 
earnest?  Would  you  really  do  it?" 

"  Goethe,  I  beg  you  to  loosen  your  hold ;  you  hurt  my  arms. " 

"Do  you  not  also  hurt  me?  With  your  cold  indifference 
do  you  not  pierce  my  heart  with  red-hot  daggers,  and  then 
smile  and  rejoice  at  my  torture,  which  is  a  proof  to  you  of  my 
unbounded  love?  While  you  only  play  with  me,  and  attach 
me  to  your  triumphal  car,  to  display  to  the  world  that  you 
have  succeeded  in  taming  the  lion,  and  have  changed  him 
into  a  good-natured  domestic  animal.  Go !  you  do  not  de- 
serve that  I  should  love  you,  cold-hearted,  cruel  woman!" 

He  threw  her  arms  from  him,  with  tears  in  his  eyes.  Char- 
lotte von  Stein  regarded  him  with  anger  and  indifference. 
"  Farewell,  secretary  of  legation.  It  seems  to  please  you  to 
insult  and  offend  a  poor  woman,  who  has  no  other  protection 
than  her  honor  and  virtue.  Farewell !  I  will  not  expose  my- 
self to  such  offences;  therefore  I  will  retire." 

She  turned  slowly  toward  the  door,  but  Goethe  bounded 
16 


234  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

forward  like  a  tiger,  interrupted  her  path,  falling  upon  his 
knees,  imploring  pity  and  begging  for  pardon.  "  Oh,  Char- 
lotte, I  will  be  gentle  as  a  child,  I  will  be  reserved,  I  know 
that  I  am  a  sinner!  It  is  warring  against  one's  own  heart  to 
seek  comfort  in  offending  what  is  dearest  to  it  in  a  moment  of 
ill-humor.  But  I  have  again  become  a  child,  with  all  my 
thoughts,  scarcely  recognizable  for  the  moment,  quite  lost  to 
myself,  as  I  consent  to  the  conditions  of  others  with  this  fire 
raging  within  me.  Oh,  beloved  Charlotte,  forgive  me!  I 
submit  to  all  that  you  wish."  * 

"  Will  you  be  satisfied  to  love  me  as  your  friend  and  sister?" 
"I  will  be,"  he  sighed.  "Only  in  the  future  you  must 
endeavor  to  persuade  yourself  into  such  a  sisterly  way  that 
you  will  be  indulgent  to  my  rudeness,  otherwise  I  shall  have 
to  avoid  you  when  I  need  you  most.  Oh,  Charlotte,  it  seems 
terrible  to  me  that  I  should  mar  through  anguish  the.  best 
hours  of  my  life,  the  blissful  moments  of  meeting  with  you, 
for  whom  I  would  pluck  every  hair  from  my  head  if  it  would 
make  you  happy.  And  yet  to  be  so  blind,  so  hardened! 
Have  pity  upon  me.  Again  I  promise  you  that  I  will  be 
reasonable.  Do  not  banish  me  from  your  presence.  Extend 
to  me  your  hand,  and  promise  me  that  you  will  be  my  friend 
and  sister!"  f 

"Then  here  is  my  hand,"  said  she,  with  a  charming  smile. 
"  I  will  be  your  friend  and  sister,  and — " 

"What  now,  my  Charlotte?  do  finish- — what  is  it?" 
She  laid  her  hand  gently  upon  his  shoulder,  and  her  words 
fell  on  his  ear  like  soft  music.  "  When  my  dear  friend  and 
much-beloved  brother  has  conducted  himself  very  prudently 
for  two  or  three  happy  weeks,  I  will  send  him  a  ringlet  of  my 
hair,  which  he  has  so  long  begged  for,  and  a  kiss  with  it." 

Goethe  spoke  not,  but  pressed  her  blushing  face  to  his 
bosom,  and  laid  his  hand  gently  upon  her  head.  A  smile  of 
delight — of  perfect  happiness — played  around  his  lips. 

*  Goethe's  words.— See  "  Letters  to  Charlotte  von  Stein,"  vol.  i.,  p.  358. 
tlbld. 


THE  READING.  235 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE   EEADING. 

THIS  happy  smile  still  beamed  upon  Goethe's  face  as  he 
walked  with  the  duke  late  in  the  evening  toward  Belvedere  to 
the  soiree  of  the  Duchess  Amelia,  who  was  inspired  with  a 
love  for  the  fine  arts,  and  particularly  literature.  The  two 
gentlemen  had  busily  occupied  themselves  in  preparing  the 
promised  surprise  for  the  lady  of  honor,  Fraulein  von  Goch- 
hausen,  and,  although  aided  by  Goethe's  servant,  Philip,  and 
other  workmen,  it  was  late  when  they  arrived. 

As  they  entered,  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  seated  in  a 
large  circle  around  the  centre-table.  At  one  end  sat  the 
Duchesses  Amelia  and  Louisa,  the  mother  and  wife  of  Charles 
Augustus,  and  near  the  former  her  friend  and  favorite  the 
poet  Wieland,  once  the  tutor  of  her  son  the  duke.  Near  the 
poet  sat  an  elderly  gentleman  of  cheerful,  good-natured  mien, 
who,  with  the  exception  of  Wieland,  was  the  only  one  who 
did  not  present  himself,  like  the  duke  and  Goethe,  in  Werther 
costume.  He  wore  a  white,  silver-embroidered  coat,  with  a 
dark-blue  satin  vest,  and  breeches  of  the  same,  shoes  with 
buckles,  and  bosom  and  wrist  ruffles  of  lace. 

This  gentleman,  with  the  bright,  sparkling  eyes,  and 
round,  pleasant  face,  was  the  poet  Gleim,  who  looked  very 
comfortable  and  stately  in  the  circle  of  powdered  perukes. 
His  admiration  for  Frederick  the  Great  had  inspired  him  to 
write  some  beautiful  military  songs,  and  his  love  of  poetry 
and  literature  made  him  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  all  those 
who  devoted  themselves  to  literary  pursuits.  Besides,  he  was 
rich  and  liberal,  and  it  was  very  natural  that  the  poets,  and 
authors  exerted  themselves  with  marked  assiduity  to  please 
Father  Gleim.  They  were  gratified  to  have  him  print  their 
works  for  a  small  remuneration  in  an  annual  which  he  entitled 
the  "  Almanach  of  the  Muses."  He  was  just  reading  aloud  at 
the  duchess's  soiree  from  the  late  edition  of  the  almanach, 


236  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

and  the  society  listened  with  earnest  and  kind  attention,  oc- 
casionally interrupted  with  an  enthusiastic  "Bravo!"  or 
"Excellent!"  from  the  duchess,  followed  by  a  murmur  of  as- 
sent around  the  table,  which  caused  the  poet's  face  to  brighten 
with  joy  and  satisfaction,  and  him  to  read  on  with  increased 
energy. 

The  entrance  of  the  duke  and  Goethe  was  unobserved,  as  it 
was  understood  that  the  former  wished  no  notice  to  be  taken 
of  his  going  or  coming,  and  the  duchess  had  also  waved  her 
hand,  not  to  interrupt  Father  Gleim.  The  poet  has  just  fin- 
ished the  new  poem  of  melodious  rhythm  of  imprisoned 
Shubart.  As  he  paused  to  wipe  the  perspiration  from  his 
brow  and  sip  a  little  raspberry  water,  a  tall,  slender  young 
man,  in  the  Werther  costume,  approached,  bowing,  and  re- 
garding the  poet  so  kindly,  that  the  glance  of  his  fine  black 
eyes  fell  like  a  sunbeam  on  the  heart  of  the  old  man.  "You 
appear  somewhat  fatigued,  my  good  sir,"  said  the  unknown, 
in  a  sweet,  sonorous  voice.  "  Will  yon  not  permit  me  to  re- 
lieve you,  and  read  in  your  stead  from  this  glorious  book  of 
yours?" 

"  Do  so,  my  dear  Gleim,"  said  the  Duchess  Amelia,  smiling, 
"  you  seem  really  exhausted ;  let  the  young  man  continue  the 
agreeable  and  welcome  entertainment." 

Father  Gleim  was  very  well  pleased ;  he  handed  the  book 
to  the  young  stranger  with  a  graceful  bow,  as  the  latter  seated 
himself  opposite  to  him,  and  next  to  Fraulein  Gochhausen. 

He  commenced  in  a  clear,  distinct  voice.  The  verses 
flowed  from  his  lips  gracefully,  and  in  a  cultivated  style. 
The  company  listened  with  devoted  attention,  and  Father 
Gleim,  the  protector  of  all  the  young  poets,  sat  delighted, 
nodding  consent,  with  a  pleasant  smile.  It  must  all  be 
charming — it  had  come  into  existence  under  his  fostering 
care.  What  beautiful  verses  to  listen  to ! 

"  Die  Zephyre  lauschen, 
Die  Bache  rauschen, 
Die  Sonne 

Verbreitet  ihr  Licht  mit  Wonnel  * 


THE  READING.  237 

And  how  charmingly  the  young  man  read  them  I  Suddenly 
Father  Gleim  startled,  and  the  smile  died  upon  his  lips. 
"What  was  it?  What  was  the  young  man  reading?  Verses 
which  were  not  in  the  collection,  and  which  were  more  re- 
markable than  he  had  ever  heard  from  his  young  poets. 

Those  are  not  in  the  Annual,  "  cried  Gleim,  quite  forget- 
ting decorum, — "  that — " 

One  glance  from  the  fine  black  eyes  of  the  young  man  so 
confounded  Father  Gleim,  that  he  ceased  in  the  midst  of  a 
sentence,  and,  staring  in  breathless  astonishment,  listened. 
Glorious  thoughts  were  expressed  therein,  and  the  poets  of 
the  Muse  Almanach  might  have  thanked  God  if  the  like  had 
occurred  to  them.  Love  was  not  the  burden  of  the  song; 
neither  hearts,  griefs,  nor  bliss,  but  satire,  lashing  right  and 
left  with  graceful  dexterity,  and  dealing  a  harmless  thrust  to 
every  one.  All  were  forced  to  laugh ;  the  happy  faces  an- 
imated and  inspired  every  thing.  The  brilliant  satirical  verses 
rushed  like  rockets  from  the  lips  of  the  reader — a  real  illu- 
mination of  wit  and  humor,  of  good-natured  jokes  and  biting 
sarcasm,  and  it  delighted  the  old  man  that  every  one  had  re- 
ceived hits  and  thrusts  but  himself;  he  had  been  spared  until 
now !  Every  one  regarded  him,  smiling  and  amused,  as  the 
reader  exalted  the  merits  of  the  Maecenas,  and  praised  him 
highly  for  the  interest  he  took  in  the  poet's  heart,  soul,  and 
v  urse,  and  shouted  victory  when  one  excelled.  But  suddenly 
the  good  father  also  changed,  and,  instead  of  the  patron  on 
the  right  throne,  there  was  a  turkey-cock  on  the  round  nest, 
which  zealously  sought  to  hatch  out  the  many  eggs  that  he 
had  to  take  care  of  for  others  besides  his  own ;  he  sat  brood- 
ing untiringly,  and  shed  many  a  tear  of  joy  over  the  fine 
number  of  eggs,  yet  it  happened  that  a  poetical  viper  had 
•put  under  him  one  of  chalk,  which  he  cared  for  with  the 
others. 

Herr  Gleim  could  no  longer  contain  himself,  and,  striking 
the  table,  he  cried,  "That  is  either  Goethe  or  the  devil!" 
The  entire  company  burst  into  uncontrollable  laughter,  and 


238  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

the  old  man  shouted  the  second  time,  though  inwardly  angry, 
"It  is  either  Goethe  or  the  devil!" 

"Both,  dear  Father  Gleim,"  said  Wieland,  who  was  drying 
his  tears  from  laughter,  "  it  is  Goethe,  and  he  has  the  devil  in 
him  to-day.  He  is  like  a  wild  colt,  which  kicks  out  behind  and 
before,  and  it  would  be  well  not  to  approach  him  too  near."  * 

Goethe  alone  retained  his  composure,  and  continued  read- 
ing in  a  louder  voice,  which  hushed  all  conversation.  He 
lashed  with  bitter  sarcasm  "him  who  assumed  to  be  a  god — a 
wise  man — and  who  counted  for  nothing  better  than  a  pre- 
tentious, saucy  fellow,  who  made  himself  the  scorn  of  the 
poets  by  his  sweet,  Werther-like  sighs,  and  other  worthless 
lamentations,  heeding  neither  God  nor  the  devil!" 

And  so  he  stormed  and  thundered,  ridiculed  and  slandered 
his  own  flesh  and  blood,  until  Gochhausen,  red  with  anger, 
rose  and  snatched  the  book  from  his  hand,  and  closed  his  lips 
with  her  hand,  crying :  "  If  you  do  not  cease,  Goethe,  I  will 
write  to  your  beloved  mother,  Frau  Aja,  that  a  satirist,  a 
calumniator  has  had  the  impudence  to  defame  and  slur  her 
beloved  son  in  a  most  sinful  and  shameful  manner!  I  will 
write  to  her,  indeed,  if  you  do  not  stop!" 

Goethe  rose,  and  bowing  offered  his  hand  to  Father  Gleim 
in  such  a  friendly,  affectionate  manner,  that  the  old  man, 
quite  delighted,  thanked  him  heartily  for  the  pleasure  and 
surprise  which  he  had  afforded  him. 

The  duke,  however,  seated  himself  by  the  little  lady  of 
honor.  "  Thusnelda,  you  are  an  incomparable  creature,  and 
quite  calculated  to  be  the  ancestress  of  all  the  Germans.  I  de- 
clare myself  your  cavalier  for  the  evening,  and  will  devote 
myself  to  you  as  your  most  humble  servant,  and  will  not  quit 
your  side  for  a  moment." 

"  Very  beautiful  it  will  be,  my  dear  duke,  a  most  charming 
idyl ;  in  true  Watteau  style,  I  will  be  the  sweet  shepherdess, 
and  lead  your  highness  by  a  little  ribbon.  But  where  is  my 
present — my  surprise?" 

*  Wieland's  own  words.— See  Lewes'  "  Life  of  Goethe,"  vol.  1.,  p.  438. 


THE  READING.  239 

**  ITou  must  not  be  impatient,  Thusnelda,  but  wait  what 
time  will  produce.  You  will  have  it;  if  not  to-day,  to- 
morrow. Every  day  brings  its  own  care  and  sorrow. " 

"Ah,  duke,  instead  of  giving  me  my  surprise,  you  beat  me 
ivith  doggerels.  That  comes  from  having  a  Goethe  for  com- 
panion and  friend.  Crazy  tricks,  like  chicken-pox,  are  con- 
tagious, and  the  latter  you  have  caught,  duke.  It  is  a  new 
kind  of  genius  distemper.  Very  fortunately,  our  dear  Coun- 
tess Werther  has  another  malady,  or  she  might  be  infected. 
Perhaps  she  has  it  already,  Count  Werther — how  is  it?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  Fraulein,"  replied  the  count,  startled  from 
his  reverie.  "I  really  do  not  know!  My  wife  is  quite  ill, 
and  for  that  reason  has  gone  to  our  estate  to  recover  her  peace 
and  quiet.  It  is  unfortunately  quite  impossible  for  me  to 
visit  her  there;  but  my  dear,  faithful  friend,  Baron  von 
Einsiedel,  will  drive  over  to-morrow  at  my  request,  my  com- 
mission— " 

"  To  set  the  fox  to  keep  the  geese,"  interrupted  Thusnelda 
in  her  lively  manner. 

"No,  not  that,  Fraulein,"  said  Count  Werther,  quite  con- 
fused, as  the  duke  burst  into  a  merry  laugh,  calling  Thus- 
nelda a  witty  Kobold,  and  as  her  faithful  Celadon  offered  her 
his  arm  to  conduct  her  to  his  mother,  the  Duchess  Amelia. 

The  company  were  all  in  a  very  happy  frame  of  mind. 
Goethe's  charming  impromptu  had  kindled  wit  and  humor 
upon  every  lip.  He  himself  was  the  happiest  of  all,  for  Char- 
lotte was  by  'his  side,  gazing  upon  him  with  her  large, 
thoughtful  eyes,  and  permitting  him  to  be  her  cavalier  for 
the  evening. 

The  duke  also  devoted  himself  to  Fraulein  von  Gochhausen, 
who  was  this  evening  unsurpassably  witty  and  caustic,  de- 
lighting him,  and  making  the  Duchess  Amelia  laugh,  and 
the  Duchess  Louisa  sometimes  to  slightly  shrug  her  shoulders 
and  shake  her  head  with  disapproval. 

In  the  midst  of  a  most  interesting  conversation  with  Frau 
von  Stein,  Goethe  was  informed  that  some  one  awaited  him 


240  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

in  the  anteroom.  He  went  out  quickly,  and  upon  returning 
he  whispered  to  the  duke,  who  nodded,  and  answered  him  in 
a  low  tone,  and  then  Goethe  betook  himself  to  the  Duchess 
Amelia. 

"What  is  it?"  the  latter  asked.  "Have  important  dis- 
patches arrived?" 

u  No ;  I  come  to  your  highness  as  courier  from  your  son. 
The  duke  begs  that  you  will  lock  the  door  of  your  anteroom 
when  you  retire,  and  that  you  will  upon  no  condition  open  it, 
no  matter  how  much  Thusnelda  may  beg  and  implore." 

"Will  you  not  injure  my  poor  Gochhausen,  you  wanton 
fellow?" 

"No!  it  is  not  very  dangerous,  duchess.  It  is  only  a 
harmless  surprise,  which  the  duke  promised  Friiulein  von 
Gochhausen." 

"  Very  well,  then,  it  can  take  place  I  promise  to  be  quite 
deaf  to  all  Thusnelda's  knocking  and  thumping,  and  I  shall 
be  glad  to  be  informed  to-mororw  what  the  trick  is.  I  pre- 
fer not  to  inquire  to-day,  as  I  might  feel  obliged  to  veto  it  if 
it  were  too  severe.  But  look,  the  Duchess  Louisa  will  break 
up;  does  she  know  any  thing  about  the  affair?" 

"No,  your  highness,  you  know  very  well  that  the  young 
duchess — " 

"  Is  much  more  sensible  than  the  old  one,  and  shakes  her 
head  disapprovingly  when  she  hears  of  your  ingenuous  tricks. 
Perhaps  it  would  be  well  if  I  were  equally  sensible,  but  there 
is  no  help  for  it.  I  like  bright,  happy  people,  and  I  think 
when  youth  vents  itself,  old  age  is  more  sedate  and  reason- 
able." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  duchess.  Mankind  resembles  new 
wine.  If  the  must  does  not  ferment  and  foam  well,  no  good 
wine  will  come  of  it.  But  look  at  our  Charles,  with  the  saucy 
jest  upon  his  lip,  and  the  fire  of  inspiration  in  those  bright 
brown  eyes.  One  day  a  fine,  strong  wine  will  clear  itself  from 
this  glorious  fermenting  must. " 

"I  hope  so,  Goethe,  and  if  the  gods  grant  it,  the  great 


WITCHCRAFT.  241 

merit  will  belong  to  you,  who  have  proved  yourself  a  good 
vintager,  and  we  will  rejoice  together  in  your  glorious 
success. " 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

WITCHCKAFT. 

Atf  hour  later  the  palace  Belvedere  was  silent  and  deserted ; 
all  the  guests  had  taken  their  departure.  The  duchess  had 
dismissed  her  suite  and  commanded  them  to  retire.  Fraulein 
von  Gochhausen  alone  remained  with  her  mistress,  chatting 
by  the  bedside,  and  recapitulating  in  her  amusing  style  all 
the  important  and  unimportant  events  of  the  soire'e.  The 
duchess  smiled  at  the  mischievous  remarks  with  which  she  or- 
namented her  relation,  and  at  her  keen,  individualizing  of 
certain  persons. 

"  Fraulein  Gochhausen,  you  are  the  most  wicked  and  the 
merriest  mocking-bird  God  ever  created,"  cried  the  duchess, 
laughing.  "Have  done  with  your  scandals,  go  up  to  your 
little  room,  piously  say  your  evening  prayers,  and  stretch  your- 
self upon  your  maiden  bed." 

"  Soon,  duchess ;  only  one  thing  more  have  I  to  call  your 
attention  to.  There  is  a  gossip  afloat  about  the  Werthers. 
I  perceive  it  in  the  air,  as  the  dove  scents  the  vulture." 

"You  alarm  me,  Gochhausen;  what  good  is  it?  You  do 
not  mean  that  the  lovely  Countess  Werther — " 

"  Is  not  only  very  weary  of  her  husband,  but  looks  about 
for  a  substitute — a  friend,  as  the  ingenious  ladies  now  call 
him.  That  is  what  I  mean,  and  I  know  the  so-called  friend 
which  the  sweet  sentimental  countess  has  chosen. " 

"It  is  the  Baron  von  Einsiedel,  is  it  not?"  asked  the  duch- 
ess. "  That  is  to  say,  his  younger  brother,  the  gay  lieutenant, 
not  our  good  friend  par  excellence. 

"  Yes,  I  mean  the  brother,  and  I  have  warned  and  taunted 


242  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

the  count  this  week  past,  but  it  is  impossible  to  awake  him 
from  his  stupidity  and  thoughtlessness." 

"  Again  you  are  giving  loose  reins  to  your  naughty  tongue, 
Thusnelda.  Count  AVerther  is  a  thoroughly  scholarly  person, 
whom  I  often  envy  his  knowledge  of  the  languages.  He  has 
studied  Sanscrit  and  the  cuneated  letters,  among  other  an- 
cient tongues." 

"  It  may  be  that  he  understands  the  dead  languages,  but 
the  living  ones  not  in  the  least.  The  language  of  the  eyes 
and  inspiration  he  is  blind  to,  with  seeing  eyes!  My  dear 
duchess,  if  you  are  not  watchful,  and  prevent  the  affair  with 
timely  interference,  a  scandal  will  grow  out  of  it,  and  you 
know  well  that  it  would  be  a  welcome  opportunity  for  our 
Weimar  Philistines  (as  the  Jena  students  call  commonplace 
gossips)  to  cry  'Murder,'  and  howl  about  the  immoral  exam- 
ple of  geniuses,  which  Wolfgang  Goethe  has  introduced  at 
court." 

"You  are  right,"  said  the  duchess,  musingly;  "your  apt 
tongue  and  keen  eye  are  ever  carefully 'watching,  like  a  good 
shepherd-dog,  that  none  of  the  sheep  go  astray  and  are  lost. 
And  you  do  not  mind  attacking  this  or  that  one  in  the  leg 
with  your  sharp  teeth!" 

"  Let  those  scream  who  are  unjustly  bitten,  your  highness ! 
Believe  me,  the  countess  will  not  cry  out;  she  will  much 
more  likely  take  care  not  to  receive  a  well-merited  rebuke.  I 
beg  your  grace  to  prevent  the  gossip !  Not  on  account  of  this 
silly,  sentimental  young  woman,  or  her  pedantic  husband,  but 
that  our  young  duke  and  Goethe  may  not  be  exposed  to  scan- 
dal, as  well  as  your  highness." 

"  You  are  right — we  must  take  care  to  prevent  it.  Has  not 
the  countess  been  absent  at  her  estate  four  days?" 

"  Yes,  your  highness,  it  is  just  this  that  troubles  me.  She 
went  away  as  sound  as  a  fish,  and  has  suddenly  fallen  very  ill. 
No  physician  has  been  called,  but,  to-morrow,  the  count  will 
commission  his  dear  friend  the  baron  to  drive  to  his  country- 
seat,  and  bring  him  tidings  of  his  better-half." 


WITCHCRAFT.  243 

"  We  must  circumvent  this.  In  the  morning  we  will  ar- 
range a  pleasure-drive,  of  the  whole  court,  to  the  country- 
seat  of  Count  Werther.  It  shall  be  a  surprise.  Let  Fourier 
give  out  the  invitations  early  to-morrow,  for  a  country  party, 
destination  unknown.  The  distribution  of  the  couples  in  the 
carriages  shall  be  decided  by  lot.  Take  care  that  Lieutenant 
Einsiedel  is  your  cavalier,  so  that  when  we  arrive  at  the  little 
"Werther,  he  will  already  be  appropriated,  and  then  we  will 
induce  her  to  return  with  us  and  spend  some  time  at  Bel^e- 
dere.  Now,  good-night,  Thusnelda;  I  am  very  tired  and 
need  repose.  Sleep  already  weighs  upon  my  eyelids,  and  will 
close  them  as  soon  as  you  are  gone.  Good-night,  my  child — 
Bleep  well!" 

The  little  deformed  court  lady  kissed  the  extended  hand, 
took  the  candlestick,  with  only  a  stump  of  a  taper  in  it,  and 
withdrew  from  the  princely  sleeping-room,  courtesying,  and 
wishing  her  mistress  good-night,  with  pleasant  dreams. 

The  anteroom  was  dark  and  deserted.  The  lights  were  all 
sxtinguished,  and  Fraulein  Gochhausen  was,  in  truth,  the 
only  person  who  had  not  long  since  retired  in  the  ducal  pal- 
ice.  She  was  accustomed  to  be  the  last,  accustomed  to 
traverse  the  long,  lonely  corridors,  and  mount  two  flights  of 
stairs  to  her  bedroom  upon  the  third  story.  The  gay  duchess, 
being  very  fond  of  society,  had  had  the  second  story  arranged 
as  guest-chambers  and  drawing-rooms. 

Why  should  the  little  court  lady  be  afraid  to-night?  She 
had  not  thought  of  it,  but  stepped  forward  briskly  to  mount 
the  stairs.  It  was  surely  very  disagreeable  for  the  wine  o 
extinguish  her  lamp  at  that  instant,  just  at  the  turning  of 
the  stairs,  and  she  could  not  account  for  it,  as  none  of  the 
windows  were  open,  and  there  was  no  trace  of  a  draft.  How- 
ever, it  was  an  undeniable  fact,  the  light  was  out  and  she  was 
in  total  darkness — not  even  a  star  was  to  be  seen  in  the 
clouded  sky.  It  was,  indeed,  true  that  Thusnelda  was  so  ac- 
customed to  the  way  that  it  mattered  little  whether  she  had  a 
light  or  not.  Now  she  had  reached  the  corrider  and  she 


244  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

could  not  fail  to  find  the  door,  as  there  was  but  one,  that  of 
her  own  room.  She  stretched  out  her  hand  to  open  it,  but, 
strange  to  say,  she  missed  the  knob !  Then  she  was  sure  that 
it  was  farther  on ;  she  felt  along  the  wall,  but  still  it  eluded 
her  grasp.  It  was  unheard  of — no  handle  and  not  a  door 
even  to  be  found!  The  wall  was  bare  and  smooth,  and 
papered  the  entire  length.  A  slight  shudder  crept  over  the 
courageous  little  woman's  heart,  and  she  could  not  explain  to 
herself  what  it  all  meant.  She  called  her  maid,  but  no  an- 
swer— not  a  sound  interrupted  the  stillness !  "  I  will  go 
down  to  the  duchess,"  murmured  Thusnelda;  "perhaps  she  is 
awake,  and  then  I  can  relight  my  taper!" 

The  door  was  fastened ;  the  duchess  had  locked  the  ante- 
room to-night  for  the  first  time. 

Thusnelda  tapped  lightly,  and  begged  an  entrance  humbly 
and  imploringly.  No  answer,  every  thing  was  quiet..  She 
recalled  that  the  duchess  had  told  her  that  she  was  very 
weary,  and  would  sleep  as  soon  as  she  was  alone,  which  she 
undoubtedly  had  done. 

Thusnelda  did  not  presume  to  awake  her  by  knocking 
louder.  She  would  be  patient,  and  mount  again  to  her  room. 
Surely  she  must  have  made  a  mistake,  and  turned  to  the  left 
of  the  corridor,  where  there  was  no  door,  instead  of  the  right, 
as  she  ought  to  have  done.  It  must  be  that  it  was  her  fault. 
(She  groped  along  the  dark  flights  of  stairs  to  the  upper  gal- 
lery, carefully  seeking  the  right  this  time,  but  in  vain. 
Again  she  felt  only  the  smooth  wall.  Terrified,  she  knew  not 
whether  she  was  awake  or  dreaming,  or  whether  she  might 
not  be  in  an  enchanted  castle,  or  walking  in  her  sleep  in  a 
strange  house.  Just  here  she  ought  to  find  her  room  and  the 
maid  awaiting  her,  but  it  was  lonely,  deserted,  and  strange — 
no  door,  no  maid.  Thusnelda,  with  trembling  hands  smoothed 
her  face,  pulled  first  her  nose,  and  then  her  hair,  to  identify 
herself.  "Is  it  I?"  she  said.  "Am  I,  indeed,  myself?  Am 
I  awake?  I  know  that  I  am  lady  of  honor  to  the  Duchess 
Amelia,  and  that  upon  the  upper  story  is  my  room.  Do  not 


WITCHCRAFT.  245 

be  foolish,  and  imagine  that  witchcraft  comes  to  pass;  the 
door  is  there,  and  it  can  be  found."  Thusnelda  renewed  her 
search  with  out-spread  arms  and  wide-spread  fingers,  feeling 
first  this  side  of  the  wall  and  then  the  other. 

By  daylight  the  deformed  little  lady  of  honor  must  have 
been  a  very  droll  figure,  in  full  toilet,  dancing  along  the  wall 
as  if  suspended  by  her  outstretched  hands.  Oh,  it  was  quice 
vain  to  seek  any  longer.  It  must  be  enchantment,  and  the 
door  had  disappeared.  An  indefinable  dream  crept  over 
Thusnelda,  and  she  was  cast  down.  For  the  first  time  a  jest 
failed  her  trembling  lips,  and  she  wept  with  anguish.  Yes, 
she,  the  keen,  mordant,  jesting  little  woman,  prayed  and  im- 
plored her  Maker  to  unloose  her  from  the  enchantment,  and 
permit  her  to  find  the  long-sought-for  entrance.  But  pray- 
ing was  in  vain,  the  door  was  not  to  be  found,  it  was  witch 
craft,  aud  she  must  submit  to  it.  The  rustling  and  moving 
of  her  arms  frightened  her  now,  and  when  she  walked  the 
darkness  prevented  her  seeing  if  any  one  followed  her;  so  she 
crouched  upon  the  floor,  yielding  to  the  unavoidable  necessity 
of  passing  the  night  there — the  night  of  enchantment  and 
witchery.* 

Not  alone  for  Fraulein  Gochhausen  was  this  beautiful  May- 
night  one  of  sad  experience  with  witches.  There  were  other 
haunted  places  at  Weimar.  In  the  neighborhood  of  the  duca. 
park,  in  the  midst  of  green  meadows,  stood  a  simple  Iittx3 
cottage.  Near  it  flowed  the  Ilm,  spanned  by  three  bridges, 
all  closed  by  gates,  so  that  no  one  could  reach  the  cottage 
without  the  occupant's  consent.  It  was  as  secure  as  a  fortress 
or  an  island  of  the  sea,  and  distinctly  visible  even  in  th3 
night,  its  white  walls  rising  against  the  dark  perspective  of 
the  park.  This  is  the  poet's  Eldorado,  his  paradise,  pre- 
sented to  Wolfgang  Goethe  by  his  friend  the  Duke  Charles 
Augustus.  It  was  late  as  the  possessor  wound  his  way  toward 
his  Tusculum,  as  he  familiarly  called  it,  and,  more  attracted 
by  the  aspect  of  the  heavens  than  by  sleep,  sought  the  bal- 

*  See  Lewes'  "  Life  and  Writings  of  Goethe,"  vol.  i.,  p.  408. 


246  OLD  FEITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

cony,  to  gaze  at  the  dark  mass  of  clouds  chasing  each  other 
like  armies  in  retreat  and  pursuit ;  one  moment  veiling  the 
moon,  at  another  revealing  her  full  disk,  and  soon  again 
covering  the  earth  with  dark  shadows,  until  the  lightning 
flashed  down  in  snaky  windings,  making  the  darkness  mo- 
mentarily visible  with  her  lurid  glare.  It  was  a  glorious 
spectacle  for  the  intuitive,  sympathetic  soul  of  the  poet,  and 
he  yielded  to  its  influence  with  delight.  He  heard  the  voice 
of  God  in  the  rolling  of  the  thunder,  and  sought  to  compre- 
hend the  unutterable,  and  understand  it  in  this  poetical  sense. 
Voices  spake  to  him  in  the  rushing  of  the  storm,  the  sighing 
of  the  trees,  and  the  rustling  of  the  foliage.  The  storm 
passed  quickly,  a  profound  quiet  and  solemnity  spread  out 
over  the  nightly  world,  and  it  lay  as  if  in  repose,  smiling  in 
blissful  dreams.  The  air  was  filled  with  perfumes,  wafted  to 
the  balcony  upon  which  dreamed  the  poet  with  unclosed  eye- 
lids and  waking  thoughts.  The  clouds  were  all  dispersed; 
full  and  clear  was  suspended  the  moon  in  the  deep,  blue  vault, 
where  twinkled  thousands  of  stars,  whispering  of  unknown 
worlds,  and  the  mysteries  of  Nature,  and  the  greatness  of 
Him  who  created  them  all. 

"  Oh,  beloved,  golden  moon,  how  calmly  you  look  down 
upon  me,  sublime  and  lovely  at  the  same  time !  When  I  gaze 
at  you,  moving  so  quietly,  floating  in  infinity,  and  contem- 
plating reflect  thyself  in  finiteness,  I  think  of  you,  oh  Char- 
lotte, who  stands  above  me  like  the  moon  so  bright  and  mild, 
and  I  envelop  myself  in  your  rays,  and  my  spirit  becomes 
heavenly  in  your  light. 

Mir  1st  es,  denk  ich  nur  an  Dich, 
Als  In  den  Mond  zu  seh'n, 
Bin  siisser  Friede  went  urn  mien, 
Weiss  nicht,  wie  mir  gescheh'n ! 

"  Yes,  like  sweet  peace,  and  quiet,  sacred  moonlight,  my 
thoughts  shall  be  of  you,  Charlotte ;  not  like  the  glowing  rays 
of  the  sun,  or  the  cold  light  of  the  stars.  Bright  and  beam- 
ing like  the  moon  you  are  to  me,  spreading  around  me  your 


WITCHCRAFT.  24? 

soft  light.  Oh,  beautiful  golden  moon,  mirrored  in  the 
water,  you  lie  as  in  a  silvery  bath,  and  would  entice  me  to 
seek  you  in  the  murmuring  depths.  Hark!  how  the  ruffled 
waves  of  the  Ilm  with  repeated  gentle  caresses  kiss  the  shore, 
and  rush  from  thence  in  golden  links  down  the  river !  Sweet 
nymph  of  the  Ilm,  I  come,  I  come!" 

Goethe  hastened  from  the  balcony,  threw  aside  his  apparel, 
and  plunged  into  the  silvery  flood,  shouting  with  joy. 

What  heavenly  pleasure  to  float  there,  rocked  by  the  mur- 
muring waves,  gazing  at  the  silvery  stars  and  the  golden 
moon,  on  a  lovely  May  night,  listening  to  the  voices  of  Na- 
ture! Add  to  that  the  perfume-laden  breeze  rising  from  the 
rain-refreshed  meadows.  How  glorious  to  plunge  into  the 
cool  stream,  splashing  and  dashing  the  water,  and  then  to 
shoot  like  a  fish  through  the  drops  falling  like  golden  rain! 
Suddenly,  while  swimming,  Goethe  raised  his  head  to  listen. 
He  thought  he  heard  footsteps  on  the  poet's  forbidden  bridge. 
The  moon  distinctly  revealed  a  peasant  from  Oberweimar,  who 
would  be  early  to  the  weekly  market,  and  so  serve  himself  to 
the  shortest  route  while  no  one  could  see  him. 

"  Such  presumption  deserves  punishment,  my  good  peasant, 
and  if  there  is  no  one  else  to  do  it  the  ghosts  must." 

Listen,  what  a  savage  yell  from  under  the  bridge,  and  then 
another  more  unearthly! 

The  peasant,  frightened,  stopped  suddenly,  and  looked 
down  into  the  river.  "  Oh,  what  oan  it  be?" 

A  glistening  white  arm  is  raised  menacingly  toward  the 
bridge.  A  white  figure,  with  a  black  head  and  long  black 
hair,  is  seen  plunging  and  splashing,  while  fearful  yells  are 
heard  from  the  deep.  Then  it  disappeared,  to  return,  and 
menace,  and  yell,  and  plunge  again. 

The  peasant  shrieked  with  terror,  and  was  answered  with  a 
cruel  laugh.  The  white  fignre  sank  and  rose  from  the  river 
screeching  and  yelling,  and  the  peasant  shrieked  also  with 
terror. 

"  A  ghost !  a  ghost !  oh,  have  mercy  upon  us !   Amen !  amen !" 


248  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

Fright  lent  him  wings,  and  he  fled,  followed  by  the  savage 
yells  of  the  white  figure,  and  never  stopped  until  he  reached 
Oberweimar,  where  he  related  to  the  astonished  and  terrified 
neighbors  that  there  was  a  river-ghost  just  by  the  bridge 
which  led  to  the  cottage  of  the  mad  secretary  of  legation, 
Goethe,  and  which  howled  in  the  moonlight.* 

With  the  peasant  also  disappeared  the  ghost  of  the  Ilm. 

Like  a  happy  child  of  Nature,  refreshed,  Goethe  went  to 
his  room  and  then  again  sought  the  balcony,  to  throw  himself 
upon  the  carpet  and  gaze  at  the  blue  starry  vault,  and  enjoy 
the  glories  of  heaven  with  thoughtful  devotion,  and  think  of 
Charlotte — only  of  her,  not  once  of  the  poor  Thusnelda  von 
Gochhausen,  who  passed  the  night  upon  the  stairs  of  the  Pal- 
ace Belvedere,  and  who,  at  last  weary  with  fright  and  ex- 
haustion, fell  asleep,  and  was  awakened  by  the  Duchess 
Amelia  in  the  morning,  laughingly  demanding  why  she  pre- 
ferred the  landing  of  the  stairs  for  a  place  of  repose. 

"  Because  I  am  bewitched,  duchess,  and  my  sleeping-room 
has  disappeared  from  earth — because  some  cursed  demon  or 
wizard  has  enchanted  me,  this  wicked — " 

"Beware  what  you  say!"  interrupted  the  duchess;  "  it  is 
most  probably  the  duke  that  you  are  inveighing  against,  and 
calling  a  demon  and  wizard." 

At  this  Thusnelda  sprang  up  as  if  struck  by  an  electric 
shock — "  The  surprise,  this  is  what  the  duke  promised  me." 

"Very  likely,"  laughed  the  duchess.  "The  courier  just 
arrived  with  a  letter  from  my  son  to  you,  and  I  came  to  bring 
it  myself,  and  found  you,  to  my  surprise,  sleeping  here. 
Read  it,  and  tell  me  what  he  says!" 

"  Oh,  listen,  your  highness!"  cried  Thusnelda,  after  having 
hastily  perused  the  contents  of  the  ducal  missive. 

"  '  I  hope  I  have  succeeded  to  surprise  you! 
Demons  and  wizards  have  closed  your  doors, 
And  weeping  you  slept  on  the  stairway  alone. 
All  witchcraft  has  now  disappeared.    Go  seek 
The  surprise  that  from  Berlin  I  brought  you, 
Which  I  now  offer  for  an  atonement.1 " 

*  This  tradition  of  the  ghost  of  the  Ilm  has  been  preserved  in  Weimar,  sine* 
Goethe's  nocturnal  bath,  until  our  time.— See  Lewes,  vol.  i.,  p.  461. 


WITCHCRAFT.  249 

"An  insolent  fellow,  indeed,  is  my  son,"  said  the  duchess, 
"  but  you  see,  Thusnelda,  he  says,  pater  peccavi,  and  I  am 
convinced  that  you  will  find  something  very  pretty  and  ac- 
ceptable in  your  room." 

"  I  will  not  take  it — indeed  I  will  not,"  pouted  the  lady  of 
honor.  "  He  so  fearfully  tormented  me  last  night.  I  assure 
your  highness  I  was  half  dead  with  terror  and — " 

"  And  yet  you  will  forgive  him,  Thusnelda,  for  the  duke 
is  your  declared  favorite;  you  dare  not  reproach  him 
were  he  never  so  insolent,  for  you  are  just  as  much  so, 
and  not  a  hair's-breadth  better.  Come,  go  up  and  see  what 
it  is." 

She  went,  and  found  four  masons,  who  had  been  at  work 
since  daybreak  to  remove  the  wall  and  replace  the  door. 
Thusnelda  was  obliged  to  laugh  in  spite  of  the  unhappy  night 
she  had  passed,  as  she  climbed  over  rubbish  and  ruins  into 
her  room,  and  met  her  maid  dissolved  in  tears,  who  related  to 
her  that  "  the  duke  had  had  her  walled  in,  for  fear  she  would 
tell  the  trick  to  her  mistress." 

"And  so  you  were  really  hermetically  sealed?"  said  the 
duchess. 

"  Yes,  your  highness,"  whimpered  the  maid,  "I  thought 
that  I  never  should  see  daylight  again.  I  wept  and  prayed 
all  night.  The  only  thing  that  consoled  me  was  the  duke's 
command,  which  Philip  brought  to  me,  to  give  this  little 
box  to  Fraulein  so  soon  as  the  wall  should  be  taken  away  in 
the  morning." 

"Give  it  to  me,  Lieschen,"  cried  Thusnelda,  impatiently, 
her  face  beaming  with  satisfaction,  however,  when  she  opened 
the  box.  "  Now,  duchess,  that  is  what  I  call  a  surprise,  and 
the  duke  shall  be,  as  he  ever  has  been,  my  favorite.  If  he 
does  sometimes  play  rude  tricks,  he  makes  it  all  right  again, 
in  a  very  generous  and  princely  manner.  See  what  a  beauti- 
ful watch  his  highness  has  brought  me,  ornamented  with 
diamonds!" 

"  Yes,  it  is  very  pretty ;  give  it  to  me  that  I  may  return  it 
17 


250  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA, 

to  the  duke,  and  not  mortify  him  too  much,  as  you  will  not 
wear  it." 

"I  will  accept  it,  duchess,"  cried   Thusnelda,  laughing — 
"  and  all  is  forgiven  and  forgotten." 


CHAPTEK    XXIV. 

THE    PUESE-PEOUD    MAN. 

"TEUDE,  is  there  no  news  from  him  yet?  Have  you  never 
seen  him  since?  Did  he  not  tell  you  about  it?" 

"No,  my  dearest  Marie,"  sighed  old  Trude.  "  There  is  no 
word,  no  message  from  him.  I  have  been  twenty  times  to 
the  baker's  in  eight  days,  and  waited  at  the  corner  of  the 
street,  where  we  agreed  to  meet,  but  no  Moritz  was  there, 
and  I  have  not  been  able  to  hear  any  thing  about  him." 

"Something  must  have  happened  to  him,"  sighed  Marie. 
"  He  is  very  ill,  perhaps  dying,  and — " 

"  No,  no,  my  child,  he  is  not  ill,  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it, 
if  you  will  not  worry.  I  have  been  to  Herr  Moritz 's  lodgings 
to-day.  I  could  not  wait  any  longer,  and — " 

"  Did  you  see  him,  and  speak  with  him,  Trude?" 

"  No  Marie,  he  was  not  there ;  and  the  people  in  the  house 
told  me  that  he  had  been  gone  for  a  week." 

"Gone!"  repeated  Marie,  thoughtfully.  "What  does  it 
mean?  What  could  persuade  him  to  abandon  me  in  this  hour 
of  need?  Tell  me,  Trude,  what  do  you  think?  Console  me 
If  you  can.  You  really  know  nothing  further  than  that  he  is 
gone?" 

"  A  little  bit  more,  but  not  much,  my  heart's  child.  When 
the  people  told  me  that  he  had  disappeared  eight  days  ago,  it 
seemed  as  if  one  of  the  Alps  had  fallen  on  my  heart,  and  my 
limbs  trembled  so  I  could  go  no  farther,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
sit  down  upon  the  stairs  and  cry  bitterly,  picturing  all  sorts  of 
dreadful  things  to  myself." 


THE  PURSE-PROUD  MAN.  251 

"Dreadful  things?"  asked  Marie.  " Oh,  Trude,  you  do 
not  believe  that  my  good,  brave  Moritz  could  do  any  thing 
sinful  and  cowardly,  like  wicked  men?  You  do  not  think 
that  my  beloved — oh,  no,  no — I  know  that  he  is  more  noble; 
he  will  bear  the  burden  of  life  as  I  will,  so  long  as  it  pleases 
God." 

The  old  woman  hung  down  her  head,  and  humbly  folded 
her  hands.  "  Forgive  me,  my  child,  that  I  have  such  weak 
and  sinful  thoughts.  I  will  apologize  for  them  in  my  heart 
to  you  and  your  beloved  so  long  as  I  live.  After  I  had  cried 
enough,  I  determined  to  go  to  the  Gray  Cloister,  and  beg  the 
director  to  see  me!" 

"  Did  you  see  him  to  speak  with  him,  dear  good  Trude?" 

"  Yes,  dear  child.  I  told  him  I  was  an  aged  aunt  of  Herr 
Moritz,  who  had  come  to  Berlin  to  visit  him ;  and  finding 
that  he  was  absent,  I  would  like  to  know  where  he  had  gone, 
and,  how  long  he  would  remain  away." 

"  Oh,  Trude,  how  clever  you  are,  and  how  kindly  you  think 
of  every  thing!"  cried  Marie,  embracing  her  old  nurse,  and 
kissing  affectionately  her  sunburnt,  wrinkled  cheek.  "  What 
did  he  say?" 

"  He  told  me  that  Herr  Moritz  had  begged  permission  to  be 
absent  fourteen  days  to  take  an  urgent,  unavoidable  journey ; 
that  ten  days  had  already  expired,  and  he  would  soon  return." 

"  Then  he  will  be  here  in  four  days,  and  perhaps  will  bring 
hope  and  aid !  He  has  gone  to  seek  it ;  I  know  and  I  feel  it, 
though  I  cannot  divine  where  the  assistance  will  come  from. 
Oh,  Trude,  if  I  could  only  gain  a  favorable  delay  until  Mo- 
ritz returns!" 

" Every  thing  is  arranged,"  murmured  Trude.  "  The  mar- 
riage license  is  already  made  out,  and  Parson  Dietrich  has 
promised  to  be  ready  at  any  hour.  Herr  Ebenstreit  has  sent 
the  money,  doubling  the  amount  required  to  the  'Invalids' 
Hospital'  at  Berlin,  so  that  when  the  papers  of  nobility  ar- 
rive, there — " 

"Hush!"    interrupted  Marie,  "do  not  speak  of  it.     It  is 


252  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

fearful  to  think  of,  and  it  crazes  me  to  hear  it.  I  will  resort 
to  every  extreme.  Since  my  father  and  mother  are  deaf  to 
my  entreaties,  I  will  try  to  move  him  to  pity.  I  have  never 
been  able  to  see  him  alone ;  my  mother  is  watchful  that  an 
explanation  should  be  impossible  between  us.  I  will  implore 
this  man  to  have  pity  upon  me,  and  confide  in  him  to  whom 
they  would  sell  me." 

Trude  shook  her  head  mournfully.  "  I  fear  it  will  be  in 
vain,  dear  child.  This  man  has  no  heart.  I  have  proved 
him,  and  I  know  it. — Hark  the  bell  rings!  Who  can  it 
be?" 

Both  stepped  out  of  the  little  garret-room  to  peep  over  the 
banister.  Since  Marie  had  been  betrothed  to  the  rich  banker 
Ebenstreit,  the  general  had  received  from  his  kind  wife  a 
servant  in  pompous  livery  for  his  own  service.  This  servant 
had  already  opened  the  door,  and  Marie  heard  him  announce 
in  a  loud  voice,  "Herr  Ebenstreit!" 

"He!"  Marie  started  back  with  horror.  "He,  so  early  in 
the  morning!  this  is  no  accident,  Trude.  What  does  it 
mean?  Hush!  the  servant  is  coming!" 

"I  will  go  down,"  whispered  Trude;  "perhaps  I  can  hear 
something." 

Trude  hurried  away  as  her  young  lady  glided  back  into  her 
room,  and  never  glanced  at  the  servant  who  sprang  past  her 
upon  the  stairs. 

"  He  is  a  hypocrite  and  a  spy ;  he  has  been  hired  to  watch 
and  observe  my  child,  and  he  will  betray  her  if  he  discovers 
any  thing." 

The  servant  announced,  with  respectful,  humble  mien, 
that  Herr  Ebenstreit  had  arrived,  and  Frau  von  Werrig  de- 
sired her  daughter  to  descend  to  the  parlor. 

"Very  well — say  that  I  will  come  directly." 

The  servant  remained  rubbing  his  hands  in  an  undecided, 
embarrassed  manner. 

"Why  do  you  not  go  down?"  asked  Marie.  "Have  you 
any  thing  further  to  tell  me?" 


THE  PURSE-PROUD  MAN.  253 

"I  would  say,"  said  he,  spying  about  the  room,  as  if  he 
were  afraid  some  one  were  listening,  "  that  if  a  poor,  simple 
man  like  myself  could  be  useful  to  you,  and  you  could  confide 
in  me  your  commissions,  I  should  be  too  happy  to  prove  to 
you  that  Carl  Leberecht  is  an  honest  fellow,  and  has  a  heart, 
and  it  hurts  his  feelings  to  see  the  miss  suffer  so  much." 

"I  thank  you,"  said  Marie,  gently.  "I  am  glad  to  feel 
that  you  have  sympathy  for  me." 

"  If  I  can  be  of  the  least  service  to  you,  have  the  goodness 
to  call  me,  and  give  me  your  commissions. M 

"Indeed  I  will,  although  I  do  not  believe  it  practicable." 

"  I  hope  miss  will  not  betray  me  to  Frau  von  Werrig  or  old 
Trude." 

"No,  I  promise  you  that,  and  here  is  my  hand  upon  it." 

The  servant  kissed  the  extended  hand  respectfully.  "  I  will 
enter  into  the  service  of  my  young  lady  at  once,  and  tell  her 
she  must  prepare  for  the  worst:  Herr  Ebenstreit  just  said, 
'The  diploma  of  nobility  has  arrived." 

Marie  turned  deadly  pale,  and  for  an  instant  it  seemed  as 
if  she  would  sink  down  from  fright,  but  she  recovered  herself 
and  conquered  her  weakness." 

"  Thank  you,  it  is  very  well  that  I  should  know  that;  I  will 
go  down  directly,"  said  she. 

With  calm,  proud  bearing  Marie  entered  the  sitting-room 
of  her  parents,  and  returned  the  salutations  of  her  betrothed, 
who  hastened  toward  her  with  tender  assiduity. 

"My  dear  Marie,"  cried  her  mother,  "I  have  the  honor  to 
present  to  you  Herr  Ebenstreit  von  Leuthen.  The  certificate 
of  nobility  arrived  this  morning." 

"  I  congratulate  you,  mother — you  have  at  last  found  the 
long-desired  heir  to  your  name." 

"Congratulate  me  above  all,  my  beautiful  betrothed,"  said 
Herr  Ebenstreit,  in  a  hoarse,  scarcely  intelligible  voice. 
"  This  title  crowns  all  my  wishes,  as  it  makes  me  your  hus- 
band. I  came  to  beg,  dear  Marie,  that  our  marriage  should 
take  place  to-morrow,  as  there  is  nothing  now  to  prevent." 


254  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"Sir, "she  proudly  interrupted  him,  "have  I  ever  per- 
mitted this  familiar  appellation?" 

"I  have  allowed  it,"  blurted  out  the  general,  packed  in 
cushions  in  his  rolling  chair.  "  Proceed,  my  dear  son." 

The  latter  bowed  with  a  grateful  smile,  and  continued: 
"  I  would  beg,  my  dear  Marie,  to  choose  whether  our  wedding- 
journey  shall  be  in  the  direction  of  Italy,  Spain,  France,  or 
wherever  else  it  may  please  her." 

"Is  it  thus  arranged?"  asked  Marie.  "Is  the  marriage  to 
take  place  early  to-morrow,  and  then  the  happy  pair  take  a 
journey?" 

"Yes,"  answered  her  mother,  hastily,  "it  is  so  decided 
upon,  and  it  will  be  carried  out.  You  may  naturally,  my 
dear  daughter,  have  some  preference ;  so  make  it  known — I 
am  sure  youi*  betrothed  will  joyfully  accord  it." 

"I  will  avail  myself  of  this  permission,"  she  quietly  an- 
swered. "I  wish  to  have  a  private  conversation  with  this 
gentleman  immediately,  and  without  witnesses." 

"Oh,  how  unfortunate  I  am!"  sighed  Herr  Ebenstreit. 
"  My  dear  Marie  asks  just  that  which  I  unfortunately  cannot 
grant  her. " 

"What  should  prevent  your  fulfilling  my  wish?"  asked 
Marie. 

"My  promise,"  he  whined.  "On  the  very  day  of  my  be- 
trothal, I  was  obliged  to  promise  my  dear  mother-in-law  never 
to  speak  with  you  alone  or  correspond  with  my  sweet  lady- 
love." 

"  These  are  the  rules  of  decency  and  of  etiquette,  which  I 
hope  my  daughter  will  respect,"  said  Frau  von  Werrig,  in  a 
severe  tone.  "  No  virtuous  young  girl  would  presume  to  re- 
ceive her  betrothed  alone  or  exchange  love-letters  with  him 
before  marriage!" 

"  After  the  wedding  there  will  be  opportunities  enough  for 
such  follies,"  grumbled  the  general. 

"You  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  use  them,  dear  father," 
laughed  Ebenstreit.  "  I  would  beg  my  respected  mother  to 


THE  PURSE-PROUD  MAN.  255 

release  me  a  half -hour  from  my  oath  to-day,  that  I  may  in- 
dulge the  first  expressed  wish  that  my  future  wife  favors  me 
with." 

"It  is  impossible,  my  son.  I  never  deviate  from  my 
principles.  You  will  not  speak  with  my  daughter  before 
marriage,  except  in  the  presence  of  her  parents." 

"Mother,  do  you  insist  upon  it?"  cried  Marie,  terrified. 
"Will  you  not  indulge  this  slight  wish?" 

"'This  slight  wish !'"  sneered  her  mother.  "As  if  I  did 
not  know  why  you  ask  this  private  conversation.  You  wish 
to  persuade  our  son-in-law  to  what  you  in  vain  have  tried  to 
implore  your  parents  to  do.  A  modest  maiden  has  nothing 
to  say  to  her  future  husband,  which  her  parents,  and  above 
all  her  mother,  could  not  hear.  So  tell  your  betrothed  what 
you  desire." 

"Well,  mother,  you  must  then  take  the  consequences. — 
Herr  Ebenstreit,  they  will  force  me  to  become  your  wife,  they 
will  sell  me  as  merchandise  to  you,  and  you  have  accepted  the 
bargain  in  good  faith,  believing  that  I  agree  to  sacrifice  my 
freedom  and  human  rights  for  riches.  They  have  deceived 
you,  sir!  I  am  not  ready  to  give  myself  up  to  the  highest 
bidder.  I  am  a  woman,  with  a  heart  to  love  and  hate,  who 
esteems  affection  superior  to  wealth.  I  cannot  marry  you, 
and  I  beg  you  not  to  teach  me  to  hate  you." 

A  savage  curse  broke  forth  from  the  general,  who,  forget- 
ting his  gout,  rose  furious,  shaking  his  clinched  fist  at  his 
daughter. 

His  wife  was  immediately  by  his  side,  and  pushed  him 
back  into  his  arm-chair,  commanding  him,  in  her  harsh,  cold 
manner,  to  remain  quiet  and  take  care  of  his  health,  and  lis- 
ten to  what  his  son-in-law  had  to  say  to  his  unfeeling  and 
unnatural  daughter.  "  He  alone  has  to  decide.  — Speak,  my 
dear  son,"  said  she,  turning  to  the  young  man,  who,  with  a 
malicious  smile,  had  listened  to  the  baroness,  fixing  his  dull- 
blue  eyes  upon  the  young  girl,  who  never  seemed  so  desirable 
to  him,  as  she  now  stood  before  him  with  glowing  cheeks. 


256  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"Again  I  say,  speak,  my  dear  son,  and  tell  my  daughter 
the  truth;  do  you  hear,  the  truth?" 

"If  you  will  permit  me,  my  dearest  mother,  I  will,"  an- 
swered Ebenstreit,  with  submissive  kindness,  again  regarding 
the  daughter.  "  You  have  made  me  a  sad  confession,  Marie," 
said  he,  sighing,  "  but  I  will  acknowledge  that  I  am  not  sur- 
prised, for  your  mother  told  me  when  I  asked  for  your  hand, 
that  she  feared  I  should  never  gain  your  consent,  for  you  did 
not  love  me,  although  she  herself,  and  the  general,  would 
grant  theirs." 

"Was  that  all  that  I  told  you?"  asked  the  mother,  coldly. 

"No,  not  all,"  continued  Ebenstreit,  slightly  inclining; 
"you  added,  'My  daughter  loves  a  beggar,  a  poor  school-mas- 
ter, and  she  entertains  the  romantic  idea  of  marrying  him.' ' 

"And  what  did  you  reply?"  asked  Marie,  almost  breathless. 

"  My  dear  Marie,  I  laughed,  repeating  my  proposal  of  mar- 
riage to  your  mother,  saying,  that  I  was  ready  to  take  up  the 
combat  with  the  poor  pedagogue,  and  that  you  seemed  all  the 
more  interesting  and  amiable  for  this  romantic  love.  Life 
is  so  tedious  and  wretched,  that  one  is  glad  to  have  some 
change  and  distraction.  I  assure  you,  I  have  not  been  so 
entertained  for  long  years,  as  in  the  last  fourteen  days  in  this 
silent  war  with  you.  It  amuses  me  infinitely  to  see  you  so 
stubborn  and  prudish,  and  increases  my  love  for  you.  How 
could  it  be  otherwise?  The  rich  banker,  Ebenstreit,  has 
never  seen  a  woman  who  was  not  ready  to  accept  his  hand, 
and  why  should  he  not  love  the  first  one  who  resists  it?  You 
have  excited  my  self-love  and  vanity.  You  have  made  the 
marriage  a  matter  of  ambition,  and  you  will  comprehend  that 
my  answer  is:  'Fraulein  von  Leuthen  must  and  shall  be  my 
wife,  no  matter  what  it  costs  me.  She  defies  my  riches  and 
despises  money,  so  I  will  force  her  to  respect  my  wealth  and 
recognize  its  power.  Besides,  she  is  a  cruel,  egotistical 
daughter,  who  has  no  pity  for  her  poor  parents,  and  is  capa- 
ble of  seeing  them  perish  for  her  foolish  attachment.  I  will 
make  her  a  good  child,  and  force  her  to  make  her  parents, 


THE  PURSE-PROUD  MAN.  25? 

and  thereby  herself,  happy.'  All  this  I  said  to  myself,  and  I 
have  acted  and  shall  act  accordingly.  I  have  only  to  add  that 
the  ceremony  will  take  place  to-morrow,  at  eleven.  We  will 
leave  immediately  after.  Have  the  goodness  therefore  to 
choose  in  which  direction,  that  I  may  at  once  make  the  nec- 
essary arrangements." 

"  Lost — lost  without  hope!"  cried  Marie,  in  anguish,  cover- 
ing her  face  with  her  hands. 

"Bather  say  rescued  from  misfortune,"  answered  Eben- 
streit,  quietly.  "Believe  me,  there  is  but  one  sorrow  that 
may  not  be  borne,  may  not  be  conquered,  and  that  is  poverty, 
which  is  a  corroding,  consuming  malady,  annihilating  body, 
and  soul,  swifter  and  surer  than  the  most  subtle  poison.  It 
stifles  all  noble  feelings,  all  poetical  thoughts  and  great  deeds, 
and,  believe  me,  love  even  cannot  resist  its  terrible  power. 
One  day  you  will  understand  this.  I  will  be  patient  and  in- 
dulgent, and  await  it  with  hope." 

"Oh,  what  a  noble  and  high-minded  man!"  cried  the 
mother,  with  emphasis. — "  Marie  should  kneel  and  thank  her 
Maker  for  such  a  magnanimous  savior  and  lover,  who  will 
shield  her  from  all  evil  and  misfortune." 

Sobbing  and  sighing,  the  daughter  had  stood  with  her  face 
concealed ;  now  she  regarded  the  cold-hearted,  smiling  woman, 
with  flashing  eyes  and  keen  contempt. 

"Thank  him!"  she  cried;  "no,  I  accuse,  I  curse  him.  He 
is  an  atheist,  and  denies  love.  He  is  not  capable  of  a  noble 
thought  or  action,  scorning  and  defaming  all  that  is  beautiful 
and  elevated,  worshipping  only  mammon.  I  will  never  marry 
him.  You  may  force  me  to  the  altar,  and  there  I  will  de- 
nounce him." 

"She  will  kill  me,"  cried  the  general;  "she  will  murder 
her  aged  parents,  leaving  them  to  starve  and  perish,  and — " 

"Silence!"  commanded  his  wife.  "Leave  off  your  com- 
plaints, she  is  not  worth  the  tears  or  remonstrances  of  her 
parents.  She  would  try  to  be  our  murderess,  but  she  shall 
not. — My  son,  inform  her  of  your  decision.  Answer  her." 


258  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"The  response  to  your  romantic  language  is  simple  and 
natural,  my  dear  Marie.  I  have  already  entered  into  your 
feelings,  and  am  prepared  for  this  idea  of  refusing  your  lover 
at  the  altar,  which  is  found  in  novels,  and  I  supposed  that  it 
might  occur  to  you.  Money  compasses  all  things  and  accord- 
ing to  our  wishes.  My  fortune  procures  for  me  a  dispensation 
from  public  authorities  to  be  married  here  in  the  house  of  our 
dear  parents.  The  law  demands  four  witnesses,  who  will  be 
represented  by  your  parents,  my  servant  Philip,  and  the 
sacristan  whom  the  clergyman  will  bring." 

"And  they  will  hear  me  abjure  you." 

"  It  is  very  possible,  dearest,  but  the  witnesses  will  not  listen 
to  you.  Money  makes  the  deaf  to  hear,  and  the  hearing  ones 
deaf.  Old  parson  Dietrich  knows  the  story  of  your  love,  and 
believes,  with  us,  that  it  is  a  malady  that  you  must  be  cured 
of.  Therefore,  in  pity  to  you,  he  will  not  listen,  and  the 
others  are  paid  to  keep  silent." 

"Is  there  no  hope,  0  Heaven?"  cried  Marie,  imploringly. 
"  0  God,  Thou  hast  permitted  it — hast  Thou  no  pity  in  my 
need,  and  sendest  me  no  aid?"  Rushing  to  her  father,  and 
kneeling  at  his  feet,  she  continued:  "Have  mercy  upon 
your  poor  child !  You  are  an  old  man,  and  may  live  but  a 
few  years;  do  not  burden  your  conscience  with  the  fearful 
reproaches  of  your  only  child,  whom  you  will  condemn  to  an 
inconsolably  long  and  unhappy  life." 

"Have  you  no  pity  yourself?  Do  you  not  know  that  I, 
your  father,  am  so  poor,  that  I  have  not  even  the  necessary 
care?  You  wish  your  parents  to  sacrifice  themselves  for  you, 
and  suffer  want!  No,  the  daughter  should  sacrifice  herself 
for  her  parents." 

"  A  beautiful  sacrifice,  a  fine  sorrow !"  sneered  her  mother. 
"  She  will  be  a  rich  woman,  and  have  the  most  splendid 
house  and  furniture  and  most  costly  equipage  in  Berlin!" 

"And  a  husband  who  adores  her,"  cried  Ebenstreit,  "and 
who  will  feel  it  his  duty  to  make  her  and  her  parents  happy. 
Eesolve  bravely  to  bury  the  past,  and  look  the  immutable 


THE  PURSE-PROUD  MAN.  259 

future  joyfully  in  the  face.  Eleven  will  be  the  happy  hour; 
fear  not  that  the  altar  will  not  be  worthy  the  charming  bride 
of  such  a  rich  family.  Money  will  procure  every  thing,  and 
I  will  send  a  florist  who  will  change  this  room  into  a  blooming 
temple,  fit  to  receive  the  goddess  of  love.  In  your  room  you 
will  find  the  gift  of  my  affection,  a  simple  wedding-dress, 
which  I  trust  you  will  approve  of.  Oh,  do  not  shake  your 
head,  do  not  say  that  you  will  never  wear  it;  you  must  believe 
now  that  all  resistance  is  in  vain.  You  will  become  my  wife, 
for  I  and  my  money  will  it." 

"And  I,"  cried  Marie,  standing  before  him  pale  and  de- 
fiant, regarding  him  with  unspeakable  contempt,  "  I  and  my 
love  will  it  not.  May  God  judge  between  us !  May  He  for- 
give those  who  have  brought  this  misfortune  upon  me !  I  can 
only  say,  '"Woe  to  them!' ' 

"Woe  to  you!"  cried  her  mother.  "  Woe  to  the  seducer 
who  has  persuaded  our  child  to  sin  and  crime,  and — " 

"  Hush  mother !  I  will  not  permit  you  to  slander  him  whom 
I  love,  and  ever  shall,  so  long — " 

"Until  you  forget  him,  and  love  me,  Marie,"  said  Eben- 
streit.  Approaching  her,  he  seized  her  hand,  and  pressed  a 
kiss  upon  it. 

She  drew  it  away  with  disgust,  and  turned  slowly  to  the 
door,  tossing  back  her  head  proudly.  "  Where  are  you 
going?"  demanded  her  mother. 

With  her  hand  upon  the  knob,  she  replied,  turning  her 
pale,  wan  face  to  her  mother,  "  To  my  own  room,  which  I 
suppose  is  permitted  to  me,  as  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said. " 

Her  mother  would  reply,  and  retain  her,  but  her  son-in-law 
held  her  gently  back.  "Let  her  go,"  said  he;  "she  needs 
rest  for  composure  and  to  accustom  herself  to  the  thought 
that  her  fate  is  unavoidable." 

"  But  what  if  she  should  resort  to  desperate  means  in  her 
mad  infatuation  and  foolish  passion?  Some  one  must  watch 
her  continually,  for  she  may  try  to  elope." 

"  You  are  right,  dearest  mother,  some  one  must  be  with 


260  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

her,  in  whom  she  will  confide.  Would  it  not  be  possible  to 
win  old  Trude?" 

"No,  nothing  would  gain  her;  she  is  a  silly  fool,  who 
thinks  only  Marie  is  of  consequence." 

Ebenstreit  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "That  means  that 
she  would  sell  herself  at  a  high  price.  I  beg  that  you  will 
send  for  her." 

"You  will  see,"  said  she,  calling  the  old  woman,  who  en- 
tered from  the  opposite  door. 

Trude  looked  about,  scowling  and  grumbling.  "  Leberecht 
told  me  my  mistress  called  me." 

"  Why  do  you  then  look  so  furious,  and  what  are  you  seek- 
ing on  the  table?"  asked  Frau  von  Werrig. 

"My  money,"  cried  Trude,  vehemently.  "I  thought  that 
you  called  me  to  pay  me,  and  that  my  wages  were  all  counted 
out  on  the  table.  But  I  see  there  is  nothing  there,  and  I 
fear  I  shall  get  none,  and  be  poor  as  a  church-mouse  all  my 
life  long.  Your  honor  promised  me  positively  that,  as  soon 
as  the  wedding  was  decided  upon,  you  would  pay  me  every 
farthing,  with  interest,  and  I  depended  upon  it." 

"You  shall  have  all,  and  much  more  than  the  general's 
wife  promised  you,  if  you  will  be  a  true  and  faithful  servant 
to  us,"  said  Ebenstreit. 

"That  I  always  have  been,  and  ever  shall  be,"  snarled 
Trude.  "  No  person  can  say  aught  against  me.  Now,  I  want 
my  money." 

"And  obstinate  enough  you  have  been  too,"  said  her  mis- 
tress. "  Can  you  deny  that  you  have  not  always  taken  my 
daughter's  part?" 

"  I  do  not  deny  it.  I  have  nursed  her  from  childhood,  and 
I  love  her  as  my  own  child,  and  would  do  any  thing  to  make 
her  happy!" 

"Do  you  believe,  Trude,"  cried  the  general,  "that  Marie 
could  be  happy  with  that  poor,  starving  wretch  of  a  school- 
master? Has  she  not  experienced  in  her  own  home  the  mis- 
fortune and  shame  of  poverty?" 


THE  PURSE-PROUD  MAN.  161 

"I  know  it  well,"  sighed  the  old  one,  sadly,  "and  it  has 
converted  me  to  believe  that  it  would  be  a  great  misfortune 
for  Marie  to  marry  the  poor  school-master." 

"  Well,  will  you  then  faithfully  help  us  to  prevent  it?" 
quickly  asked  Ebenstreit. 

"How  can  I  do  it?"  she  sighed,  shrugging  her  shoulder. 

"  You  can  persuade  my  daughter  to  be  reasonable,  and  yield 
to  that  which  she  cannot  prevent.  You  are  the  only  one  who 
can  make  any  impression  upon  Marie,  as  she  confides  in  you. 
Watch  her,  that  in  a  moment  of  passionate  desperation  she 
does  not  commit  some  rash  act.  You  can  tell  us,  further, 
what  she  says,  and  warn  us  of  any  crazy  plan  she  might  form 
to  carry  out  her  own  will." 

"  That  is  to  say,  I  must  betray  my  Marie?"  cried  Trude, 
angrily. 

"No,  not  betray,  but  rescue  her.  Will  you  do  it?"  asked 
Ebenstreit. 

"  I  wish  to  be  paid  my  wages,  my  two  hundred  thalers,  that 
I  have  honestly  earned,  and  I  will  have  them." 

Ebenstreit  took  a  piece  of  paper  from  his  pocket.  Writing 
a  few  lines  with  a  pencil,  he  laid  it  upon  the  table.  "  If  you 
will  take  this  to  my  cashier  after  the  ceremony  to-morrow,  he 
will  pay  you  four  hundred  thalers. " 

"Four  hundred  thalers  in  cash,"  cried  Trude,  joyfully 
clapping  her  hands.  "Shall  all  that  beautiful  money  be 
mine,  and —  No,  I  do  not  believe  you,"  she  cried,  her  face 
reassuming  its  gloomy,  suspicious  look.  "  You  promise  it  to 
me  to-day,  that  I  may  assist  you,  and  persuade  Marie  to  the 
marriage,  but  to-morrow,  when  old  Trude  is  of  no  more  use, 
you  will  send  me  away  penniless.  Oh,  I  know  how  it  is.  I 
have  lived  long  enough  to  understand  the  tricks  of  rich  peo- 
ple. I  will  see  the  cash  first — only  for  that  will  I  sell 
myself." 

"The  old  woman  pleases  me,"  said  Ebenstreit.  "She  is 
practical,  and  she  is  right. — If  I  promise  you  the  money  in 
an  hour,  will  you  persuade  Marie  to  cease  her  foolish  resist- 


262  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE   NEW  ERA. 

ance,  and  be  my  wife?     Will  you  watch  over  her,  and  tell  us 
if  any  thing  unusual  occurs?" 

"Four  hundred  thalers  is  a  pretty  sum,"  repeated  Trude, 
in  a  low  voice  to  herself.  "  I  might  buy  myself  a  place  in 
the  hospital,  and  have  enough  left  to  get  me  a  new  bed  and 
neat  furniture  and — " 

Here  her  voice  was  lost  in  unintelligible  mumbling,  and, 
much  excited,  she  appeared  to  count  eagerly.  With  her  bony 
forefinger  she  numbered  over  the  fingers  of  her  left  hand,  as 
if  each  were  a  fortune  that  she  must  verify  and  examine. 

The  mother  and  the  banker  regarded  each  other  with  mock- 
ing looks ;  the  general  looked  at  the  money,  grumbling :  "  If 
I  had  had  four  hundred  thalers  the  last  time  I  played,  I  could 
have  won  back  my  money  in  playing  again." 

"  Old  woman,"  said  Ebenstreit,  "have  you  not  finished  with 
your  reckoning?" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  with  an  exultant  laugh,  "I  have  done! 
Four  hundred  thalers  are  not  sufficient.  I  must  have  five,  and 
if  you  will  give  them  to  me  in  cash  in  an  hour,  then  I  will  do 
every  thing  that  you  wish,  and  persuade  Marie  to  the  mar- 
riage. I  will  watch  her  day  and  night,  and  tell  you  every 
thing  that  she  says  and  does.  But  I  must  have  five  hundred 
in  cash!" 

Ebenstreit  turned  his  dull-blue  eyes  to  Frau  von  Werrig 
with  a  triumphant  smile.  "Did  you  not  tell  me  the  old 
woman  could  not  be  bought?  I  knew  that  I  was  right. 
You  did  not  offer  her  money  enough ;  she  will  sell  herself 
dear  as  possible." 

"Yes,  as  dear  as  she  can,"  laughed  Trude — "five  hundred 
is  my  price." 

"  You  shall  have  it  in  cash  in  an  hour,"  said  Ebenstreit,  in 
a  friendly  manner. 

"So  much  money,"  whined  the  general;  "  it  would  have 
saved  me  if  I  had  had  it  that  last  time." 

"  My  son-in-law,  I  must  confess  you  are  exceedingly  gener- 
ous," remarked  the  mother. 


THE  PUKSE-PROUD  MAN.  263 

"  No  sum  would  be  too  great  to  assure  me  my  bride.  Go 
now,  Trude,  you  shall  have  the  money  in  time. — Will  you 
allow  me,  father,  to  send  your  servant  to  my  office  for  it?" 

"Send  Leberecht  here,  Trude!" 

The  old  woman  hurried  out  of  the  room,  but  the  door  once 
closed,  her  manner  changed.  One  might  have  supposed  a 
sudden  cramp  had  seized  her,  from  her  distorted  face,  and 
twitching  and  panting,  and  beating  the  air  with  her  clinched 
fists,  and  her  quivering  lips  uttering  broken  words. 

Approaching  footsteps  warned  her  to  assume  her  general 
manner  and  expression,  and  cease  her  manipulations.  "  The 
ladies  and  gentlemen  wish  you  in  the  parlor,"  mumbled  Trude 
to  the  servant  descending  the  stairs.  "  But  where  have  you 
been,  and  what  have  you  to  do  up  there?" 

" I  was  looking  for  you,  lovely  one — nothing  more!" 

"  Well,  now  you  have  found  me,  tell  me  what  you  want?  I 
know  you  were  sneaking  about,  listening,  because  you  thought 
I  was  with  Marie.  I  understand  you  better  than  you  think  I 
do.  I  have  found  many  a  viper,  and  I  am  familiar  with  their 
aspect.  Go !  they  are  waiting  for  you,  and  let  me  find  you 
again  spying  about,  and  I  will  throw  a  pail  of  water  on  you!" 

With  this  friendly  assurance  Trude  dismissed  Leberecht, 
and  hastened  with  youthful  activity  to  the  little  garret-room, 
when  Marie  fell  upon  her  neck,  weeping  bitterly. 

"  Calm  yourself — do  not  weep  so — it  breaks  my  heart,  my 
dear  child." 

"  And  mine  cannot  break.  I  must  endure  all  this  anguish 
and  survive  this  shame.  Help  me,  my  good  mother,  stand  by 
me !  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  marry  that  dreadful  man. 
I  have  sworn  constancy  to  my  beloved  Moritz,  and  I  must  be 
firm,  or  die!" 

"Die?  then  you  will  kill  me!"  murmured  the  old  one, 
"  for,  if  you  go,  I  must  go  also.  But  we  will  not  give  up 
yet,  as  we  are  both  living ;  we  will  not  despair  for  life.  I  am 
going  once  more  to  Moritz's  lodgings;  it  may  be  he  has  re- 
turned, and  will  rescue  you." 


264:  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Oh,  do,  good  Trude ;  tell  him  that  I  have  courage  and 
determination  to  risk  and  bear  every  thing — that  I  will  await 
him;  that  nothing  would  be  too  difficult  or  dangerous  to 
serve  to  unite  me  to  him !  Tell  him  that  I  prefer  a  life  of 
poverty  and  want  by  his  side,  to  abundance  and  riches  in  a 
splendid  palace  with  that  detested  creature — but  no,  say  noth- 
ing about  it,  he  knows  it  well !  If  he  has  returned,  tell  him 
all  that  has  happened,  and  that  I  am  resolved  to  brave  the 
utmost,  to  save  myself!" 

"  I  will  go,  dear  child,  but  I  have  first  my  work  to  do,  and 
enough  of  it  too — but  listen  to  what  they  have  made  me  be- 
come." Hastily,  in  a  low  voice,  she  related  to  Marie  the 
story  of  her  corruption,  excited  as  before,  her  limbs  shaking 
and  her  fists  clinched.  "  They  say  we  old  women  resemble 
cats,  but  from  to-day  forth  I  know  that  is  a  shameful  lie!  If 
I  had  possessed  their  nature  and  claws,  I  should  have  sprung 
at  the  throat  of  this  rascal,  and  torn  out  his  windpipe ;  but, 
instead  of  that,  I  stood  as  if  delighted  with  his  degrading 
proposal!  Oh,  fie!  the  good-for-nothing  kidnapper  would 
tempt  a  poor  creature !  Let  us  wait,  they  will  get  their  re- 
ward. He  shall  pay  me  the  five  hundred  thalers,  and  then 
this  trader  of  hearts  shall  recognize  that,  however  much  ill- 
earned  money  he  may  throw  away,  love  and  constancy  are  not 
to  be  bought.  We  will  teach  him  a  lesson,"  and  with  this, 
the  old  servant  ceased,  gasping  for  breath. 

"  Go  now,  Trude,  and  learn  if  he  has  returned ;  upon 
him  depends  my  happiness,  and  life  even — he  is  my  last 
hope!" 

"  I  am  going,  but  first  I  would  get  the  wages  of  my  sin,  and 
play  the  hypocrite,  and  tell  a  few  untruths ;  then  I  will  go  to 
Moritz's  lodgings,  and  the  baker  also.  Do  not  despair;  I 
have  a  joyful  presentiment  that  God  will  have  pity  upon  us 
and  send  us  aid."  Trude  kissed  and  embraced  her  child,  and 
scarcely  waited  an  hour,  when  she  was  demanded  in  the  parlor 
to  receive  her  money. 

Herr  Ebenstreit  was  heartily  delighted  with  her  zealous  im- 


THE  PURSE-PROUD  MAN.  265 

patience,  and  handed  her  ten  rolls  of  gold,  reminding  her  of 
the  conditions. 

"  I  have  already  consoled  her  a  little,  and  she  begins  to 
change.  I  hope  every  thing  will  turn  for  good.  Just  leave 
her  alone  with  me. " 

"  But  first,  I  must  go  and  see  my  aged  brother,  who  will 
take  care  of  my  money,"  replied  Trude.  "He  is  a  safe  man 
and  will  not  spend  it." 

"Trude,"  cried  the  general,  "what  an  old  fool!  to  seek  at 
a  distance  what  is  so  near  you.  I  will  take  your  money,  and 
give  you  interest.  Do  you  hear?  I  will  take  care  of  it!" 

"  Thank  you,  general,  I'd  rather  give  it  to  my  brother,  on 
account  of  the  relationship. "  She  slipped  out  of  the  room, 
nid  the  money  in  her  bed,  and  hurriedly  left  the  house. 

Scarcely  an  hour  passed  ere  Trude  returned  as  fleetly  as  she 
went.  She  cast  only  a  look  into  the  kitchen,  and  hastened 
up  to  Marie's  room.  Her  success  was  evident  in  her  happy, 
smiling  face,  and  coming  home  she  had  repeated  to  herself, 
"  How  happy  Marie  will  be!"  almost  the  entire  way. 

She  had  but  closed  the  door,  when  the  mean  little  Lebe- 
recht  glided  from  behind  the  chimney,  and  crept  to  listen  at 
the  door. 

Within  was  a  lively  conversation,  and  twice  a  shout  of  joy 
was  heard,  and  Marie,  exultant,  cried,  "  Oh,  Trude !  dear 
Trude !  all  goes  well,  I  fear  nothing  now.  God  has  sent  me 
the  savior  which  I  implored!" 

Leberecht  stood,  bent  over,  applying  his  ear  to  the  keyhole, 
listening  to  every  word. 

Oh,  Trude !  if  you  could  only  have  seen  the  traitor,  glued 
to  the  door,  with  open  eyes  and  mouth!  Could  you  have 
seen  the  eavesdropper  rubbing  his  hands  together,  grinning, 
and  listening  in  breathless  suspense ! 

Why  cannot  you  surprise  him,  Trude,  and  fulfil  your  threut 

to  deluge  him  and  chase  him  away  from  your  child's  door? 

They  forgot  the  necessity  of  prudence,  and  the  possibility  of 

being  overheard.     At  last  it  occurred  to  the  old  servant,  and 

18 


266  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

she  tore  open  the  door,  but  no  one  was  there — it  was  deserted 
and  still. 

"God  be  thanked,  no  one  has  listened,"  whispered  Trude. 
"  I  will  go  down  and  tell  them  that  I  hope,  if  we  can  stay 
alone  all  day,  you  will  be  calmer  and  more  reasonable." 

"  Do  it,  Trude ;  I  do  not  dare  to  see  any  one  for  fear  my 
face  will  betray  me,  and  my  mother  has  very  sharp  eyes. 
Eeturn  soon." 

She  opened  the  door,  and  saw  not  the  eavesdropper  and 
spy,  who  had  but  just  time  to  conceal  himself,  and  stand 
maliciously  grinning  at  the  retreating  figure  of  the  faithful 
servant. 

He  slipped  lightly  from  his  hiding-place  down  to  his  sleep- 
ing-room, in  a  niche  under  the  stairs.  For  a  long  time  he 
reflected,  upon  his  bedside — his  watery  blue  eyes  staring  at 
nothing.  "This  must  be  well  considered,"  he  mumbled. 
"  There  is,  at  last,  a  capital  to  be  won.  Which  shall  I  do 
first,  to  grasp  a  good  deal?  Shall  I  wait,  or  go  at  once  to 
Herr  Ebenstreit?  Very  naturally  they  would  both  deny  it, 
and  say  that  I  had  made  up  the  whole  story  to  gain  money. 
I  had  better  let  the  affair  go  on :  they  can  take  a  short  drive, 
and  when  they  are  about  an  hour  absent,  I  will  sell  my  secret 
at  a  higher  price.  Now  I  will  pretend  to  be  quite  harmless, 
and  after  supper  let  the  bomb  burst!" 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE    ELOPEMENT. 

EVENING  had  set  in.  The  card-table  had  been  arranged, 
and  Leberecht  had  rolled  his  master  to  it,  taking  his  place 
behind  his  chair.  The  hour  of  whist  the  general  impatiently 
awaited  the  entire  day,  and  it  was  regularly  observed.  Even 
in  the  contract  with  his  adopted  son  it  had  been  expressly 
mentioned  as  a  duty,  that  he  should  not  only  secure  to  them 


THE  ELOPEMENT.  267 

a  yearly  income,  but  also  devote  an  hour  to  cards  every 
evening. 

Herr  Ebenstreit  regarded  it  as  a  tax,  which  he  must  ob- 
serve until  married.  The  general  was  much  his  superior  at 
cards,  and,  moreover,  played  the  dummy,  and  the  stake  being 
high,  it  was  quite  an  income  for  the  future  father-in-law,  and 
regarded  by  him  as  the  one  bright  spot  in  his  daily  life. 

The  cards  had  been  dealt,  and  Leberecht  had  assorted  the 
general's,  and  placed  them  in  his  gouty  hand,  when  Trude 
entered,  exultingly. 

"What  has  happened?  What  makes  you  interrupt  us?" 
cried  the  general.  "  Did  you  not  remember  that  I  have  told 
you  always  not  to  disturb  us  at  this  hour." 

"  Yes,  general,  but  I  thought  good  news  was  never  amiss." 

"  WThat  have  you  pleasant  to  tell  us?"  harshly  demanded 
Frau  von  Werrig. 

"My  young  lady's  compliments,"  cried  Trude,  trium- 
phantly; "she  begins  to  see  that  she  must  yield  to  her  fate, 
and  that  it  will  do  no  good  to  resist  any  longer.  She  will 
be  ready  for  the  ceremony  at  eleven  o'clock  to-morrow 
morning." 

The  general  uttered  a  cry  of  joy,  and  struck  the  table  so 
violently,  with  his  hand,  that  the  cards  were  thrown  together. 

His  wife  bowed  dignifiedly,  and  the  happy  bridegroom 
gave  old  Trude  some  gold-pieces  upon  the  favorable  news. 

"  Has  she,  then,  been  converted  by  your  persuasion?"  he 
asked. 

"  Through  my  persuasion  and  her  own  good  sense.  She 
understands  that,  if  she  cannot  marry  her  dear  Moritz,  Herr 
Ebenstreit  is  the  most  fit  husband,  because  he  loves  her,  and 
is  so  generous  to  her  old  parents.  One  thing  she  would  like 
an  answer  to — can  I  accompany  her  to  her  new  home?" 

"  Yes,  old  woman,  it  will  be  very  agreeable  to  have  so  sen- 
sible a  person,"  said  Ebenstreit.  "Tell  Marie  that  it  givea 
me  pleasure  to  fulfil  her  wish." 

"  In  that  case  I  would  repeat  that  Fraulein  begs  for  indul- 


268  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

gence  and  forbearance  until  to-morrow,  and  would  like  to 
remain  alone  to  compose  herself." 

"I  do  not  wish,  in  the  least,  to  see  her,"  said  her  mother; 
" she  can  do  what  she  likes  until  then." 

"  I  will  tell  Marie,  and  she  will  rejoice,"  cried  Trude. 

"Tell  her,  from  her  father,  that  it  is  very  agreeable  to  him 
not  to  see  her  pale,  wretched-looking  face  again  till  morn- 
ing.— Now,  my  son,  , pay  attention,  and  you,  Trude,  do  not 
presume  to  interrupt  us  again.  Leberecht,  play  out  my  ace 
of  hearts." 

The  latter,  with  his  eyes  cast  down,  and  with  a  perfectly 
indifferent  manner,  played  the  card  indicated,  and  Trude  left 
the  room  quietly  and  unobserved. 

"Every  thing  is  arranged,  my  child,"  said  Trude,  as  she 
reentered  Marie's  room.  "They  are  playing  cards,  which 
always  lasts  two  hours,  then  Herr  Ebenstreit  goes  away,  and 
the  family  will  go  to  bed.  You  have  eighteen  hours,  before 
you  will  be  discovered.  Hark!  it  strikes  seven,  and  it  is 
already  quite  dark.  When  the  post-horn  sounds,  then  it  is 
time." 

"  Oh,  Trude !  my  dear  mother,  my  heart  almost  ceases  to 
beat,  with  anxiety,  and  I  quake  with  fear,"  sighed  Marie. 
"  I  am  conscious  that  I  have  commenced  a  fearful  under- 
taking!" 

"They  have  driven  you  to  it — it  is  not  your  fault,"  said 
Trude,  consolingly.  "  Every  human  being  is  free  to  work  out 
his  own  good  or  bad  fortune,  and,  as  our  dear  Old  Fritz  says, 
'to  be  happy  in  the  future  world  in  his  own  way. '  They  have 
sold  you  for  money,  and  you  only  prove  to  them  that  you  are 
no  slave." 

"And  I  prove  also  that  I  am  a  disobedient  daughter," 
added  Marie,  trembling.  "At  this  hour,  it  weighs  like  a 
heavy  burden  upon  my  heart,  and  the  words  of  Holy  Writ 
burn  into  my  very  soul — 'Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother, 
that  it  may  be  well  with  thee. ' ' 

"You  have  honored  them  all  your  life,"  said  Trude,  sol- 


THE  ELOPEMENT.  269 

emnly ;  "  I  can  witness  it  before  God  and  man.  You  have 
worked  for  them  without  thanks  or  love,  receiving  only  con- 
tempt. It  is  also  written,  'Thou  shalt  leave  father  and 
mother,  and  cleave  unto  thy  husband. '  You  still  follow  the 
commands  of  God,  and  may  it  bring  you  happiness  and  blessing. 
My  prayers  and  thoughts  go  with  you,  my  child!  a  mothei 
could  not  love  her  offspring  more  tenderly  than  I  do  you." 

"  No  mother  could  more  tenderly  and  faithfully  care  for  her 
child  than  you  have  for  me,  Trude,"  cried  Marie,  pressing 
her  lovingly  to  her  breast.  "  Through  you  alone  is  my  rescue 
possible,  for  you  give  us  the  money  to  undertake  the  long 
journey." 

"Not  I,"  she  laughed;  "it  is  Herr  Ebenstreit,  and  that 
makes  it  the  more  amusing ;  the  wicked  always  set  the  traps 
into  which  they  fall  themselves."  Suddenly  the  loud,  quiver- 
ing tones  of  the  post-horn  were  heard,  "  Es  ritten  drei  Keiter 
zum  Thore  hinaus." 

"He  has  come!"  cried  Marie,  and  her  face  beamed  with 
delight.  "  He  calls  me !  I  am  coming ! — Farewell,  dear, 
peaceful  room,  where  I  have  so  toiled,  wept,  and  suffered !  I 
shall  never  see  thee  again !  My  beloved  calls  me,  and  I  go  to 
follow  him  even  unto  death!  Pardon  me,  0  God!  Thou 
seest  that  I  cannot  do  otherwise !  They  would  force  me  to 
perjury,  and  I  dare  not  break  my  oath!  I  cannot  forsake 
him  whom  I  love ! — When  they  curse  me,  Trude,  kneel,  and 
implore  God  to  bless  me,  who  is  the  Father  of  love !  My  con- 
science does  not  reproach  me.  I  have  worked  for  them  when 
they  needed  it ;  now  their  adopted  son,  to  whom  they  have 
sold  their  name,  allows  them  a  yearly  rent,  and  I  can  work  for 
myself. " 

"Hark!  there  is  the  post-horn  again,  you  must  go,"  mur- 
mured Trude,  struggling  to  force  back  her  tears. 

"Bless  me,  mother,"  implored  Marie,  kneeling. 

"God's  blessing  go  with  you,"  she  said,  laying  her  hands 
upon  her  head,  "  and  may  it  render  of  no  avail  the  curses  of 
men,  but  permit  you  to  walk  in  love  and  happiness!" 


270  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Amen,  amen  T-  sighed  Marie,  "  now  farewell,  dear  mother, 
farewell!" 

Marie  rose,  and  kissing  Trude  again,  flitted  down  the  stairs, 
and  out  of  the  house,  Trude  following,  holding  her  breath 
and  listening  in  fearful  excitement. 

Again  resounded  the  post-horn. 

"They  are  gone,"  murmured  Trude,  bowing  her  head  and 
praying  long  and  fervently. 

The  general  was  particularly  fortunate  this  evening,  which 
caused  him  to  be  unusually  cheerful  and  satisfied.  After 
every  rubber  he  gathered  up  the  thalers,  until  he  had  amassed 
a  most  satisfactory  pile.  As  the  clock  struck  ten,  Frau  von 
Werrig  declared  that  they  must  finish  and  go  to  bed. 

The  general  yielded,  with  a  sigh,  to  her  decision,  for  he 
knew,  by  long  years  of  experience,  that  it  would  be  in  vain  to 
defy  her  will.  He  shoved  his  winnings  into  a  leather  bag, 
which  he  always  carried  with  him,  and  gave  Leberecht  the 
order  to  roll  away  his  chair,  when  the  servant,  with  a  solemn 
bow,  stepped  closely  to  him,  and  begged  the  general  to  listen 
to  him  a  moment. 

"  Well,  what  have  you  to  say?"  he  asked. 

"  I  have  only  one  request — that  you  will  permit  me  to  prove 
that  I  am  a  faithful  servant,  who  looks  out  for  the  good  of 
his  employers.  You  have  given  Trude  five  hundred  thalers 
that  she  might  watch  over  your  daughter.  I  can  show  you 
how  well  she  deserved  it,  and  how  differently  your  humble 
servant  would  have  done. — Have  the  goodness,  Frau  von  Wer- 
rig, to  call  Trude  to  bid  Fraulein  come  down,  for  you  have 
something  important  to  communicate  to  her." 

His  mistress  proudly  regarded  him  and  seemed  to  try  to 
read  his  meaning  in  his  smiling,  humble  face.  "  And  if  my 
daughter  comes,  what  have  you  to  say?" 

"  If  she  comes,  then  I  am  a  miserable  fool  and  scoundrel, 
but  I  beg  you  to  call  Trude." 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  old  woman  appeared,  confused 
and  sleepy,  asking — "what  they  wanted  at  such  a  late  hour?" 


THE  ELOPEMENT.  271 

"  Go  and  tell  my  daughter  that  I  wish  to  see  her  at  once." 

Trude  trembled,  but  composed  herself,  saying,  "  There  is 
time  enough  to-morrow.  Fraulem  has  been  asleep  a  long 
time." 

"She  lies,"  sneered  Leberecht,  taking  the  precaution  to 
protect  himself  behind  the  general's  arm-chair.  "  She  knows 
that  she  is  not  in  bed." 

"Oh,  you  sneak,  you  rascal,"  cried  Trude,  shaking  her  fist 
at  him,  "  how  dare  you  say  that  I  tell  a  lie?  How  can  such 
a  miserable  creature  as  you  impute  to  others  what  you  do 
yourself  every  time  that  you  open  your  mouth?" 

"  Frau  von  Werrig,  she  is  only  quarrelling,  in  order  to  gain 
time — every  moment  is  precious.  I  beg  you  to  go  up-stairs, 
and  see  for  yourself,  if  your  daughter  is  there." 

"  Fraulein  has  locked  the  door  so  as  not  to  be  disturbed." 

"Ah,"  said  Leberecht,  "Trude  has  locked  it,  and  has  the 
key  in  her  pocket." 

"  Give  up  the  key,"  shrieked  the  general,  who  in  vain  tried 
to  rise,  "  or  I  will  call  the  police,  and  send  you  to  prison." 

"  Do  it,  but  I  will  not  give  it  to  you." 

"  Do  you  not  see  she  has  it?"  cried  Leberecht. 

"  Oh,  you  wretch,  I  will  pay  you — I  will  scratch  your  eyc^ 
out,  you  miserable  creature!" 

"Trude,  be  quiet,"  commanded  Ebenstreit;  "the  general 
orders  you  to  give  up  the  key — do  it!" 

"  Yes,  do  it  at  once,"  shrieked  Frau  von  Werrig,  "or  I  will 
dismiss  you  from  my  service." 

"  That  you  will  not  have  to  do,  as  I  shall  go  myself.  I  will 
not  give  up  the  key." 

"  The  door  is  old,  and  with  a  good  push  one  could  open  it," 
said  Leberecht. 

"Come,  my  son,  let  us  see,"  said  the  mother. 

They  hastened  up  to  the  room,  while  the  general  scolded 
furiously  that  he  must  sit  still.  Leberecht  and  Trude  cast 
furious,  menacing  glances  at  each  other. 

Suddenly  a  loud  crash  was  heard. 


272  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"They  have  broken  open  the  door!"  cried  the  general. 

"  I  said  that  it  was  old  and  frail — what  do  you  say  now, 
beautiful  Trade?" 

The  old  woman  wiped  with  her  hand  the  drops  of  perspi- 
ration from  her  forehead,  caused  by  her  anguish.  "  You  are 
a  bad  fellow,  and  God  will  punish  you  for  your  treason,  that 
you  have  tormented  a  noble,  unhappy  girl.  I  saw  that  you 
were  an  eavesdropper,  and  you  know  all." 

"  She  is  gone!"  shrieked  the  mother,  rushing  into  the  room. 

"The  room  is  empty,"  cried  Ebenstreit.  "Marie  is  not 
there.  Tell  us,  Leberecht,  what  you  know  about  it." 

"  I  will,  if  we  can  agree  about  the  pay — the  old  woman 
bothers  me,  and  beg  the  young  gentleman  to  go  into  the 
next  room  with  me." 

"  0  Almighty  God,  have  compassion  upon  my  poor  little 
Marie,"  murmured  Trude,  kneeling,  and  covering  her  face. 

Ebenstreit  in  the  mean  time  withdrew  to  the  other  room, 
followed  by  the  servant. 

"  Speak !"  commanded  his  master,  "  and  tell  me  what  you 
have  to  say." 

Leberecht  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  We  are  two  men  who 
have  urgent  business  with  each  other.  I  am  not  at  present  a 
servant  and  you  the  master.  I  am  a  man  who  has  an  impor- 
tant secret  to  sell,  and  you  are  the  man  who  would  buy  it." 

"What  strange,  unheard-of  language  is  this?"  said  Eben- 
streit, astonished. 

"  The  language  of  a  man  who  cannot  only  deprive  the  rich 
banker  Ebenstreit  of  a  lovely  wife,  but  of  his  title  also.  You 
said  yourself,  sir,  this  morning,  that  it  was  only  valid  if  you 
succeeded  in  marrying  the  daughter  of  General  von  Leuthen. 
No  none  knows  where  you  can  find  your  bride  but  me." 

"And  Trude,"  said  Ebenstreit,  quickly. 

"  You  know  she  will  not  betray  Fraulein,  and  you  have  not 
even  tried  to  make  her." 

"  You  are  mistaken ;  Trude  is  as  easily  bought  as  any  one. " 

"  You  say  that  because  she  has  taken  five  hundred  thalers 


UNDER  THE  STARRY  HEAVENS.  273 

from  you.  She  has  not  helped  you,  and  it  is  useless  to  ask 
for  your  money,  as  she  has  not  got  it. " 

"  How  so?     Has  she  given  it  away?" 

"  You  provided  the  money  for  your  bride  to  run  away  and 
marry  elsewhere,  as  Trude  gave  it  to  them." 

Ebenstreit  stamped  his  foot  with  .age,  striding  backward 
and  forward  in  furious  excitement,  while  Leberecht  watched 
him,  sardonically  smiling.  "  Let  us  come  to  an  end  with  this 
business,"  said  Ebenstreit,  stopping  before  his  servant.  "  You 
know  where  Fraulein  can  be  found,  and  you  wish  to  sell  the 
secret — tell  me  your  price." 

"  Three  thousand  thalers,  and  a  clerkship  in  your  bank, 
tfhich  you  intend  to  continue  under  another  name. " 

"  You  are  beside  yourself.  I  am  not  so  foolish  as  to  grant 
?uch  senseless  demands." 

"  Every  hour  that  you  wait  I  demand  a  thousand  thalers 
more,  and  if  you  stop  to  reflect  long  your  betrothed  and  your 
title  both  are  lost." 

"You  are  a  miserable  scamp!"  cried  Ebenstreit,  enraged; 
"  I  will  inform  the  police.  There  are  means  enough  to  force 
you  to  give  the  information." 

"  I  do  not  believe  it.  Trude  will  not  tell  you,  and  I  should 
like  to  know  what  can  force  me  if  I  will  not.  The  king  has 
done  away  with  torture,  and  I  have  informed  you  how  to 
make  me  speak.  Three  thousand  thalers  and  a  clerkship  in 
your  office.  Take  care !  it  is  almost  eleven  o'clock — at  mid- 
night I  shall  demand  four  thousand." 


CHAPTER    XXYI. 

UNDER   THE   STARRY   HEAVENS. 

IT  was  a  beautiful,  clear,  moonlight  night.  The  world  re- 
posed in  silence.  Mankind  with  their  cares  and  sorrows, 
their  joys  and  hopes,  had  gone  to  rest.  Over  town  and  vil- 


274  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

lage,  over  highway  and  forest  had  flitted  the  sweet,  consoling 
angel — Sleep.  The  sad  were  soothed,  the  heavy-laden  were 
lightened  of  their  burdens,  to  the  despairing  were  brought 
golden  dreams,  to  the  weary  rest.  Sighing  and  sorrowful, 
he  turned  from  those  with  a  sad  face  whose  conscience  ban- 
ished repose,  and,  ah!  their  number  was  legion.  To  the 
wakeful  and  blissful  he  smilingly  glanced,  breathing  a  prayer 
and  a  blessing;  but  these  were  few  and  far  between — for 
happiness  is  a  rare  guest,  and  tarries  with  mortals  but  fitfully. 
As  he  glided  past  the  joyful  couple  who,  with  watchful  love 
and  grateful  hearts,  sat  in  the  carriage  rolling  over  the  silent, 
deserted  highway,  two  tears  fell  from  his  eyes,  and  his  starry 
wings  were  wider  outspread  to  rush  more  quickly  past. 

"Look,  my  dear  Marie,  two  stars  just  fell  from  heaven. 
They  are  a  greeting  to  you,  loved  one,  and  they  would  say 
they  guide  us  on  our  way." 

"  Oh,  Philip,  it  is  a  sign  of  ill-luck !  Falling  stars  betoken 
misfortune!" 

She  clung  closer  to  his  side,  and  laid  her  head  upon  his 
shoulder.  He  pressed  her  more  lovingly  to  his  heart.  "  Do 
not  fear,  dear  Marie;  separation  only  could  cause  us  un- 
happiness — we  have  long  borne  it,  and  now  it  is  forever  past. 
You  have  given  yourself  to  me  for  my  own,  and  I  am  yours, 
heart  and  soul ;  we  speed  on  through  the  night  to  the  morn- 
ing of  the  bright,  sunny  future,  never  more  to  be  parted." 

"Never!"  she  fervently  murmured.  "Oh,  may  God  hear 
our  prayer.  Never,  never  to  part !  Yet,  while  the  word  falls 
from  my  lips,  a  shudder  creeps  through  my  soul." 

"Wherefore  this  despair,  dearest?  Eeflect,  no  one  will  be 
apprised  of  our  flight  till  early  morning,  and  then  they  will 
not  know  whither  we  Iiave  fled.  Meanwhile  we  rush  on  to 
Hamburg,  where  a  packet-ship  sails  every  "Wednesday  for 
England ;  arriving  there,  we  will  first  go  to  Suffolk,  to  my 
old  friend  the  vicar  of  Tunningham.  I  was  his  guest  many 
weeks  last  year,  and  he  often  related  to  me  the  privilege 
which  had  been  conferred  on  the  parish  church  for  a  long 


X/NDER  THE  STARRY  HEAVENS.  275 

time  to  perform  valid  marriages  for  those  to  whose  union 
there  were  obstacles  interposed  elsewhere.  He  will  bless  the 
union  of  our  love,  and  will  accord  me  the  lawful  right  to  call 
you  my  own  before  God  and  man.  We  will  not  return  at  once 
to  Germany.  I  have  many  connections  and  literary  friends 
in  London,  who  will  assist  me  to  worthy  occupation.  Be- 
sides, I  closed  an  agreement  some  weeks  since  with  the  pub- 
lisher Nicolai  in  Berlin  for  a  new  work.  I  will  write  it  in 
London;  it  will  be  none  the  less  favored  coming  from  a 
distance." 

"  My  flowers  and  paintings  will  also  be  as  well  received  in 
London  as  in  Berlin,"  added  Marie,  smilingly. 

"  No,  Marie,  you  shall  not  work.  I  shall  have  the  precious 
care  of  providing  for  you,  which  will  be  my  pride  and  happi- 
ness. Oh,  my  beloved,  what  a  crowning  bliss  to  possess  a 
,^veet,  dear  wife,  who  is  only  rich  in  imperishable  treasures, 
and  poor  in  external  riches!  What  delight  to  toil  for  her, 
and  feel  that  there  lives  in  my  intellect  the  power  to  grant 
her  every  wish,  and  to  compensate  her  in  the  slightest  degree 
the  boundless  wealth  of  her  affection!  To  a  loving  mind 
there  is  no  prouder,  happier  feeling  than  to  be  the  only  source 
of  support  to  the  wife  of  his  love — to  know  that  she  looks  to 
him  for  the  fulfilment  of  her  slightest  wish  in  life.  I  thank 
my  Maker  that  you  are  poor,  Marie,  and  that  I  am  permitted 
to  toil  for  you.  How  else  could  I  reward  you  for  all  you  have 
sacrificed  for  me?" 

"  You  cannot  suppose,  dear  Philip,  that  the  riches  ol  my 
obtrusive  lover  would  have  been  any  attraction  to  rne. 
Money  could  never  compensate  for  the  loss  of  your  love.  You 
are  my  life,  and  from  you  alone  can  I  receive  happiness  or  un- 
happiness.  At  your  side  I  am  rich  and  joyous,  though  we 
may  outwardly  need;  without  you  I  should  be  poor  with 
superfluity.  I  am  proud  that  we  in  spirit  have  freed  ourselves 
from  those  fictitious  externals  with  which  the  foolish  burden 
themselves.  Oh,  my  beloved  Philip,  my  whole  soul  is  exul- 
tant that  we  are  never  more  to  part — no,not  even  in  eternity, 


276  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

for  I  believe  that  love  is  an  undying  sentiment,  and  the  soul 
can  never  be  darkened  by  death  which  is  beaming  with  affec- 
tion." 

"  You  are  right,  Marie,  love  is  the  immortality  of  the  soul ; 
through  it  man  is  regenerated  and  soars  to  the  regions  of 
eternal  light.  When  I  recall  how  desolate  and  gloomy  was 
my  life,  how  joyless  the  days  dragged  on  before  I  loved  you,  I 
almost  menaced  Heaven  that  it  created  me  to  wander  alone 
through  this  desert.  The  brightest  sun's  rays  now  gild  my 
future,  and  it  seems  as  if  we  were  alone  in  paradise,  and  that 
the  creation  entire  glorified  my  happiness,  and  all  the  voices 
of  Nature  shouted  a  greeting  to  you,  dearest.  Oh,  Marie,  if 
I  lived  a  thousand  years,  my  heart  would  retain  its  youthful 
love  and  adoration  for  you,  who  have  saved  me  from  myself, 
have  freed  my  soul  from  the  constraining  fetters  of  a  sad,  joy- 
less existence.  Eepose  your  head  upon  my  heart,  and  may  it 
rest  there  many  happy  years,  and  receive  in  this  hour  my  oath 
to  love,  esteem,  and  honor  you  as  my  most  precious  treasure! 
You  shall  be  wife,  child,  sister,  and  friend.  My  soul  shall  be 
frank  and  open  to  you ;  for  you  I  will  strive  and  toil,  and  will 
cherish  and  foster  the  happiness  received  from  you  as  my 
most  treasured  gift.  Give  me  your  hand,  Marie." 

She  laid  it  within  his  own  strong,  manly  hand,  gently 
pressing  it. 

The  large  full  moon,  high  above  them,  lighted  up  these 
noble  faces,  making  the  eyes,  which  were  bent  upon  each  other, 
more  radiant.  Swiftly  the  carriage  rolled  on,  the  night- 
breeze  fanning  their  cheeks  and  waving  back  their  raven  curls. 

Moritz  raised  their  clasped  hands,  and  gazed  at  the  starry 
heaven. 

"  "We  lift  them  up  unto  Thee,  0  God.  Thou  hast  heard 
my  oath,  0  Eternal  Spirit,  who  dwellest  among  the  stars;  re- 
ceive it,  and  bless  the  woman  I  love!" 

"  Receive  also  my  oath,  0  my  Maker.  Regard  the  man  to 
whom  I  have  sworn  eternal  fidelity,  bless  him,  and  bless  me. 
Let  us  live  in  love  and  die  in  constancy. " 


UNDER  THE  STARRY  HEAVENS.  277 

Moritz  responded,  "Amen,  my  beloved,  amen!" 

They  embraced  each  other  fervently.  Onward  rolled  the 
carriage  through  the  tranquil,  blissful  night.  Oh  why  can- 
not these  steeds  borrow  wings  from  the  night- wind?  Why 
cannot  the  soaring  spirit  bear  aloft  its  earthly  tenement? 
With  divine  joy  and  heavenly  confidence  you  gaze  at  the 
stars.  You  smilingly  interchange  thoughts  of  the  blissful 
future,  whilst  dire  misfortune  approaches,  and  will  soon  seize 
you  in  its  poisonous  grasp!  Do  you  not  hear  it?  Does  not 
the  echo  of  swift-prancing  steeds  ring  in  your  ears?  Do  you 
not  hear  the  shrieking  and  calling  after  you? 

They  listen  only  to  the  voice  of  tenderness  speaking  in  their 
hearts,  and  would  that  the  solemn  quiet  of  this  dialogue 
might  not  be  broken  by  a  loud  word  from  their  lips. 

The  post-horn  sounded!  They  halted  at  a  lonely  house 
near  the  highway.  It  is  the  station.  Change  horses !  There 
is  not  a  light  to  be  seen.  Three  times  the  postilion  blew  a 
pealing  blast  ere  they  could  awake  the  inmates.  The  window 
was  at  last  opened,  and  a  sleepy,  complaining  voice  questioned 
the  number  of  horses  and  the  distance  of  the  next  post. 

Slowly  they  were  brought  forward,  and  still  more  slowly 
were  they  attached  to  the  carriage,  and  all  arranged.  What 
matters  it?  The  night  is  lovely,  and  like  a  dream  it  seems  to 
remain  under  the  starry  heavens,  spread  out  like  a  canopy 
above  them. 

Does  not  your  heart  tell  you  that  sorrow  strides  on  like  the 
storm?  Do  you  not  hear  the  voices  still  shrieking  after  you? 

The  postilion  mounted  his  horse,  and  again  the  trumpet 
pealed  forth  its  merry  air,  and  was  answered  with  a  shout  of 
triumph  from  the  swift  pursuers. 

Marie  raised  her  head  from  Philip's  shoulder.  "  What  was 
it?  Did  you  not  hear  it?" 

"What,  my  beloved,  what  should  I  hear?  Do  the  stars 
salute  you?  Do  the  angels  greet  their  sister  upon  earth?" 

"Hark!  there  it  is  again!  Do  you  not  hear  it?  Listen! 
does  it  not  seem  as  if  one  called  'Halt!  halt!'  " 


278  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Yes,  truly,  I  hear  it  now  also !  What  can  happen,  love? 
Why  trouble  ourselves  about  the  outer  world  and  the  existence 
of  other  beings?" 

"  I  know  not,  but  I  am  so  anxious,  my  heart  almost  ceases 
to  beat,  with  terror!" 

"Halt!  halt!"  the  wind  carries  forward  the  shriek,  and 
above  their  heads  it  sounds  like  the  screeching  of  ravens. 

"Strange!     For  whom  are  they  calling?"    Moritz  looked, 
back  along  the  highway.     White  and  clear   it  lay  in   the 
moonlight,  but,  far  in  the  distance  was  a  black  mass,  taking 
form  and  shape  at  every  moment ! 

Horsemen !  horsemen !  in  full  speed  they  come ! 

"Postilion!  drive  on!  quick!  Let  the  horses  gallop! 
There  is  a  forest  near — drive  us  to  that,  that  we  may  hide 
ourselves  in  the  thicket!  Onward,  postilion!  we  are  not 
thieves  or  murderers.  A  hundred  thalers  are  yours,  if  you 
save  us!" 

The  postilion  beat  his  horses !  In  full  chase  they  followed 
— more  and  more  distinctly  were  heard  the  curses  and  yells. 

"Oh,  God  in  heaven,  have  mercy  upon  us  in  our  need!" 

"Faster,  postilion! — in  mercy,  faster!" 

"Halt!  halt! — in  the  name  of  the  king,  halt!" 

This  startled  the  postilion,  and  he  turned  to  listen,  and 
again  a  furious  voice  yelled,  "  In  the  name  of  the  king,  halt!" 

The  postilion  drew  up.  "  Forgive  me,  sir,  but  I  must  re- 
spect the  name  of  the  king." 

Forward  galloped  the  horsemen. 

"Philip,"  whispered  Marie,  "why  do  we  live — why  do  we 
not  die?" 

He  folded  her  in  his  arms,  and  passionately  kissed  her,  per- 
haps for  the  last  time.  "Marie,  be  mindful  of  our  oath — 
constant  unto  death!" 

" Constant  unto  death!"  she  repeated. 

" Be  firm  and  defy  all  the  storms  of  life!" 

Marie  repeated  it,  with  heightened  courage. 

The   horsemen  surrounded   the  carriage,  the  riders  upon 


UNDER  THE  STARRY  HEAVENS.  279 

panting  steeds !  Two  officers  in  uniform  sprang  to  the  side, 
laying  their  hands  upon  Moritz's  shoulder.  "Conrector 
Philip  Moritz,  we  arrest  you  in  the  name  of  the  king!  You 
are  accused  of  eloping  with  a  minor,  and  we  are  commanded 
to  transport  you  to  Spandau  until  further  orders!"  Upon 
the  other  side  two  other  horsemen  halted.  The  foremost  was 
Herr  Ebenstreit,  who  laid  his  hand  upon  Marie,  and  saw  not 
or  cared  not  that  she  shudderingly  shrank  away. 

"  My  dear  Marie,  I  come  as  the  ambassador  of  your  parents, 
and  am  fully  empowered  to  lead  your  back  to  your  father's 
house." 

She  answered  not,  but  sat  immovable  and  benumbed  with 
terror,  the  tears  rolling  down  her  cheeks. 

"You  arrest  me  in  the  name  of  the  king,"  cried  Moritz; 
"I  bow  to  the  law.  I  beg  only  to  speak  to  that  man,"  point- 
ing to  Ebenstreit,  with  contempt.  "Sir,  dismount,  I  have 
important  business  with  you!" 

"We  have  nothing  to  say  to  each  other,"  answered  Eben- 
streit,  calmly. 

"But  I!"  cried  Moritz,  springing  forward,  furious  as  a 
Ziori,  "I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  you  rascal,  and  I  will 
treat  you  accordingly!" 

He  savagely  tore  the  whip  from  the  postilion's  hand,  and 
ctruck  Ebenstreit  in  the  face.  "Now,"  cried  he,  trium- 
phantly, "I  have  forced  you  to  give  me  satisfaction!" 

The  police  swung  themselves  from  their  saddles,  and  Lebe- 
recht  quickly  dismounted.  They  clinched  Moritz  by  the  feet 
and  hands.  It  was  a  desperate  struggle,  and  Marie  gazed  at 
them  with  folded  hands,  praying  without  words.  They  seized 
him  and  held  him  fast  with  manacles.  A  shriek,  and  Marie 
sank  fainting.  Moritz's  head  sank  upon  his  breast,  almost 
in  the  agony  of  death. 

"Take  him  to  the  next  station,  my  friends,"  commanded 
Ebenstreit,  "the  carriage  is  already  ordered  to  remove  him  to 
Spandru."  He  dismounted,  and  now  took  the  place  by 
Marie,  who  still  lay  in  a  dead  faint.  "  Postilion,  mount  and 


280  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

turn  your  carriage,  I  retain  you  until  the  next  station.  If 
you  drive  quickly,  there  is  a  louis  d'or  for  you." 

"I  will  drive  as  if  the  devil  were  after  me,  sir!"  shouted 
the  postilion,  and  turned  to  gallop  off,  when  Ebenstreit 
ordered  him  to  halt,  and  Leberecht  to  get  up  on  the  box. 

Then  turning  to  the  officers,  "Gentlemen,"  said  he, 
proudly,  "  you  are  witnesses  to  the  ill-treatment  and  insults  of 
this  woman-stealer.  You  will  certify  that  the  blood  flowed 
down  my  face." 

"I  will  myself  make  it  known  before  all  men,"  cried  Mo- 
ritz,  with  a  contemptuous  laugh.  "  I  have  insulted  you  and 
branded  you." 

"We  will  give  our  evidence,"  respectfully  replied  the 
officers.  "  As  soon  as  we  have  delivered  our  prisoner  at  Span- 
dau,  we  will  announce  ourselves  to  you." 

"  Then  you  will  receive  from  me  the  promised  reward  of  a 
hundred  thalers.  If  you  hush  up  the  entire  adventure,  so 
that  it  is  not  noised  about,  after  three  months,  still  another 
hundred." 

"We  will  be  silent,  Herr  Ebenstreit." 

"  I  believe  you ;  a  hundred  thalers  is  a  pretty  sum.  For- 
ward, Leberecht,  make  the  postilion  push  on,  that  we  may 
arrive  in  Berlin  before  daybreak,  and  no  one  know  of  this 
abominable  affair." 

The  postilion  laughed  with  delight,  at  the  thought  of  the 
louis  d'or.  Upon  the  box  sat  Leberecht,  a  smile  of  malicious 
triumph  upon  his  face.  "  This  has  been  a  lucky  night,"  said 
he ;  "  we  have  all  done  a  good  business,  but  I  am  the  most 
fortunate,  with  my  three  thousand  thalers  and  a  fine  place. 
I  wish  he  had  waited  an  hour  later,  and  then  I  should  have 
had  another  thousand!" 

Ebenstreit  sat  with  triumphant  smile  also,  by  his  betrothed. 
"  Money  is  the  king  of  the  world — with  it  one  can  accomplish 
all  things,"  said  he  to  himself;  "if  I  had  been  a  poor  fellow, 
the  general  would  not  have  chosen  me,  nor  the  king  have 
given  me  a  title,  nor  could  I  have  won  back  my  beautiful 


THE  SACRIFICE.  281 

bride.  Money  gives  position,  and  I  hope  will  give  me  the 
power  to  revenge  myself  for  the  pain  in  my  face."  He  turned 
menacingly  toward  Moritz,  who  saw  it  not. 

With  bowed  head,  speechless,  as  if  numb  with  the  horror 
of  his  misfortune,  he  rode  with  fettered  hands  between  the 
two  officers,  incapable  of  fleeing,  as  they  had  even  bound  a 
cord  around  his  arms,  each  end  held  fast  by  one  of  the  riders. 

The  stars  and  the  moon  shone  down  upon  him  as  brightly 
beautiful  as  an  hour  previous.  Oh,  Marie,  you  were  right, 
falling  stars  betoken  misfortune !  Your  star  has  fallen ! 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

THE   SACRIFICE. 

SINCE  that  painful  night,  four  weeks  had  passed,  four  long 
ones  to  poor  old  Trude.  To  her  beloved  child  they  had  fled 
in  happy  unconsciousness.  In  the  delirium  of  fever,  her 
thoughts  wandered  to  her  lover,  always  dwelling  upon  her 
hopes  and  happiness.  In  the  intervals  of  reason  she  asked  for 
him  with  fearful  excitement  and  anxiety,  then  again  her 
mind  was  clouded,  and  the  cry  of  anguish  was  changed  into 
a  smile. 

Then  came  the  days  of  convalescence  and  the  return  to 
consciousness,  and  with  it  the  mourning  over  crushed  hopes. 
Slowly  had  Trude,  th3  faithful  nurse,  who  watched  by  her 
bedside  day  and  night,  answered  her  excited  questions,  and 
related  to  her  little  by  little  the  circumstances  of  the  elope- 
ment— how  Leberecht  had  played  the  eavesdropper  and  sold 
Marie's  secret  for  gold ;  how  he  had  previously  arranged  to 
pursue  them,  informing  the  police,  ordering  the  horses,  and 
sending  forward  a  courier  to  provide  fresh  relays  at  every 
station. 

Trude  depicted  the  anger  of  her  father  and  the  threats  of 

her  mother  to  send  her  to  prison.     But  before  she  could  exe- 
19 


282  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

cute  her  purpose,  Ebenstreit  had  brought  home  the  uncon- 
scious child,  and  she  herself  had  lifted  her  from  the  carriage 
and  borne  her,  with  the  aid  of  her  mistress,  to  her  own  little 
attic  room. 

Marie  listened  to  these  relations  with  a  gloomy  calmness 
and  a  defiant  sorrow.  Illness  had  wrought  a  peculiar  change 
in  her  mind,  and  hardened  the  gentle,  tender  feelings  of  the 
young  girl.  Grief  had  steeled  her  soul,  benumbed  her  heart, 
and  she  had  risen  from  her  couch  as  one  born  anew  to  grief 
and  torture.  Her  present  situation  and  lost  happiness  had 
changed  the  young,  loving,  tenderly-sensitive  maiden  to  the 
courageous,  energetic,  and  defiant  woman,  who  recognized  a 
future  of  self-renunciation,  combat,  and  resignation. 

Trude  observed  these  changes  with  disquietude  and  care. 
She  wished  Marie  would  only  once  complain,  or  burst  into 
tears.  After  the  first  storm  of  despair  had  passed,  th.e  tears 
refused  to  flow,  and  her  eyes  were  bright  and  undimmed. 
Only  once  had  profound  emotion  been  awakened,  as  Trude 
asked  her  if  she  had  forgotten  her  unhappy  lover,  and  cared 
no  more  to  learn  his  fate.  It  had  the  desired  effect. 

A  deathly  paleness  overspread  her  delicate,  transparent 
cheek.  "I  know  how  he  is,"  she  said,  turning  away  her 
face,  "  I  realize  his  sufferings  by  my  own.  We  are  miserable, 
lost — and  no  hope  but  in  death.  Ere  this  comes,  there  is  a 
desert  to  traverse  in  heat,  and  dust,  and  storm,  and  frost, 
alone,  without  consolation  or  support.  Hush,  Trude !  do  not 
seek  to  revive  miserable  hopes.  I  know  my  fate,  and  I  will 
endure  it.  Tell  me  what  you  know  about  him?  Where  is 
he?  Have  they  accused  him?  Speak!  do  not  fear  to  tell  me 
everything!"  But  fearing  herself,  she  threw  her  handker- 
chief quickly  over  her  face,  and  sat  with  it  covered  whilst 
Trude  spoke. 

"  I  know  but  little  of  poor,  dear  Moritz.  He  has  never  re- 
turned to  his  lodgings.  A  day  or  two  after  that  night,  two 
officers  sealed  his  effects,  and  took  away  his  clothes.  His 
hostess  has  not  the  least  suspicion  of  the  mysterious  dis- 


THE  SACRIFICE.  283 

appearance  of  her  otherwise  quiet,  regular  lodger.  The  secret 
of  the  elopement  has  been  carefully  guarded,  as  no  one  of  the 
neighbors  know  it,  and  there  is  no  gossip  about  you  and  Mo- 
ritz.  Those  who  think  he  is  travelling  are  not  surprised  at 
his  having  left  without  taking  leave,  as  they  say  he  was  ac- 
customed to  do  so.  But,"  continued  Trude,  in  a  lower  tone, 
"  Herr  Gedicke  looked  very  sad  and  grave,  as  I  asked  for  the 
Conrector  Moritz.  'He  has  disappeared,'  he  sighed,  'and  I 
know  not  if  we  shall  ever  see  him  again.'  'Oh,  Jemima!'  I 
screamed,  'you  do  not  think  that  he  has  committed  a  self- 
injury?'  'No,'  said  the  director,  'not  he  himself,  he  is  too 
honorable  a  man.  Others  have  ill-treated  him  and  made  hin 
unhappy  for  life. '  It  was  in  vain  to  ask  further ;  he  kneA 
not  or  he  would  not  say  any  thing.  I  believe  your  family 
know  where  poor  Moritz  is,  for  your  mother  speaks  of  him  as 
>ne  in  the  penitentiary,  and  quite  triumphantly  she  told  me 
yesterday  that  the  king,  in  his  new  book  of  laws,  had  ex- 
pressly condemned  the  person  who  elopes  with  a  minor  to  be 
sent  to  the  house  of  correction  for  ten  years,  and  then  she 
laughed  so  cruelly,  that  I  trembled  to  hear  her." 

As  Trude  related  this,  she  search ingly  glanced  at  Marie  to 
.observe  the  effect  of  her  words,  hoping  to  see  her  weep  or 
complain,  and  that,  at  last,  grief  would  melt  the  icy  crust 
rtround  her  heart. 

But  Marie  sat  motionless  and  without  uttering  a  sound — 
aot  a  sigh  or  a  moan  escaped  her.  After  a  long  silence, 
,vhen  her  grief  was  too  deep  for  tears,  she  drew  the  handker- 
chief from  her  face,  the  pallor  and  rigidity  of  which  startled 
Trade. 

She  sprang  forward,  folding  her  in  her  arms.  "Marie, 
child  of  my  heart,  do  weep,  do  complain!  I  know  that  he 
loved  you  dearly,  and  deserves  that  you  should  mourn  for 
him.  Have  you  no  more  confidence,  though,  in  your  old 
Trude?  Is  she  no  longer  worthy  to  share  your  grief?" 

Marie  laid  her  languid  head  upon  the  bosom  of  her  faithful 
nurse;  a  long-drawn,  piercing  cry  of  anguish  was  her  re- 


284  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

sponse,  she  trembled  violently,  and  the  tears  ran  down  her 
cheeks. 

Trade  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven,  murmuring,  "  I  thank 
thee,  0  Lord!  Her  heart  is  not  dead!  It  lives,  for  it 
suffers!" 

"It  suffers,"  groaned  Marie,  "the  anguish  of  death." 

This  passionate  outburst  of  feeling  was  of  but  short  du- 
ration. Her  tears  were  dried,  and  her  quivering  face  assumed 
its  usually  calm  expression. 

"Trade,"  said  she,  gently,  continuing  to  repose  upon  her 
bosom,  "I  am  so  wretched  that  words  cannot  express  it  or 
tears  soothe  it.  If  I  should  give  myself  up  to  sorrow  and 
mourning  I  should  die,  and  that  cannot  be,  for  I  must  live  to 
wait  for  him — to  rescue  him.  How  I  know  not  yet;  my 
thoughts  and  resolutions  are  so  confused  that  they  flicker  like 
the  ignesfatui.  I  will  force  my  mind  to  be  calm,  and  these 
wandering  lights  shall  unite  in  one  glowing  flame  to  destroj 
the  walls  and  obstructions  which  confine  him.  He  is  a 
prisoner ;  I  feel  it  in  my  heart,  and  I  must  live  to  free  him. 
This  is  my  task,  and  I  will  accomplish  it ;  therefore  I  woulJ 
be  composed,  and  strong  in  myself.  Wonder  not  that  I  weep 
or  complain  no  more,  and  do  not  refer  to  my  misfortune.  I 
should  die  if  I  did  not  suppress  this  anguish,  and  I  would  be- 
come strong  and  active.  Seek  not  to  enfeeble  me,  but  aid 
me  to  harden  myself ;  refrain  from  complaint,  that  I  may  be 
silent.  I  think  only  of  him,  and  I  ask  nothing  further  than 
to  yield  my  life  to  free  him.  Let  us  never  speak  of  it  again, 
for  I  feel  that  all  the  firmness  which  I  had  gained  has  been 
swept  from  me  in  this  giving  way,  and  that  I  must  begin 
anew." 

From  this  hour  she  commenced  to  build,  and  rose  upon  her 
grief  as  on  a  column  which  projects  toward  heaven ;  leaned 
upon  it,  and  received,  as  Brisoeus  from  the  earth,  the  power 
of  life  and  action.  She  had  already  so  conquered  herself  as 
to  be  able  to  leave  her  own  quiet  room,  and  descend  to  that 
of  her  parents.  There  she  would  sit  calmly  for  hours,  listen- 


THE  SACRIFICE.  285 

ing  attentively  to  the  conversation,  hoping  to  catch  some 
word  that  might  give  her  a  clew. 

They  avoided  every  exciting  topic,  and  were  milder  and 
more  thoughtful  for  her.  Even  her  mother  made  no  re- 
proaches, and  never  alluded  to  the  past,  because  she  feared  to 
celay  her  recovery,  and  remove  the  longed-for  goal  in  hinder- 
ing the  marriage  with  Ebenstreit.  The  latter  carefully 
avoided  troubling  her  by  his  presence;  when  he  heard  Marie's 
step  in  the  anteroom,  who  descended  at  a  certain  hour  every 
day,  he  withdrew  by  the  other  entrance. 

"Who  goes  out  every  time  I  come  in?"  asked  Marie,  one 
day  as  she  appeared  in  the  sitting-room. 

The  general  coughed  with  embarrassment,  and  glanced 
anxiously  at  his  wife,  whose  eyes  rested  upon  her  daughter 
with  a  cold,  searching  expression.  Their  eyes  met,  and  were 
riveted  upon  each  other.  A  cold,  cruel  smile  played  around 
the  thin,  bloodless  lips  of  the  mother  as  she  recognized  the 
defiance  and  firmness  in  her  child,  and  felt  that  she  had 
lecovered. 

"  It  is  your  betrothed,"  she  answered,  "our  dear  Ebenstreit 
— a  good,  generous,  and  self-sacrificing  son,  for  whom  we 
thank  God  every  day,  who  wishes  to  spare  you  the  annoyance 
of  seeing  him." 

"He  need  not  inconvenience  himself  on  my  account. 
Nothing  excites  or  wounds  my  feelings  now.  It  would  be  a 
pity  for  your  heartless,  thankless  daughter  to  deprive  you  of 
the  society  of  your  dear  son.  Let  him  remain ;  it  is  not  nec- 
essary for  us  to  notice  one  another." 

Her  parents  regarded  each  other  astonished,  and,  as  she 
ceased,  they  still  listened  to  the  dying  tones  of  her  voice, 
which  sounded  so  strangely  to  them.  "  She  is  much  changed," 
mumbled  the  general  to  himself.  "  She  does  not  seem  the 
sume  person,  she  is  so  haughty  and  majestic.  She  might  well 
inspire  fear." 

The  following  day,  as  Marie  entered  the  room,  Ebenstreit 
was  there.  He  approached  her,  extending  both  hands  smil- 


286  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

ing,  and  greeting  her  with  tender  words,  rejoicing  at  her 
recovery. 

She  took  no  notice  of  his  friendly  demonstrations,  but 
coldly  and  harshly  regarded  his  smiling  face,  and  particu- 
larly the  broad,  blood-red  scar  which  ran  from  forehead  to 
chin.  Then  suddenly  her  face  lighted  up,  and  an  expression 
of  savage  triumph  shot  from  her  eyes.  "How  disfigured 
you  look,"  she  cried  exultingly.  "Where  did  you  get  that 
scar?" 

"You  know  well,  Marie,"  he  murmured,  gloomily. 

"  Yes,"  she  cried,  triumphantly.  "  I  know  it.  He  branded 
you,  and  you  will  wear  this  mark  before  God  and  man  as  long 
as  you  live." 

"You  are  very  cruel  to  remind  me  of  it,  Marie,"  he  softly 
whispered. 

She  laughed  aloud  so  wild  and  savagely,  that  even  her 
mother  was  startled.  "Cruel — I  cruel!"  she  cried.  "Ah, 
sir,  it  becomes  you  indeed  to  accuse  me  of  it!" 

Trade  entered  at  this  instant,  pale  and  excited. 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

"  There  is  some  one  here  who  wishes  to  speak  with  you, 
Marie;  he  has  something  very  important  to  tell  you." 

"  How  dare  you  announce  any  one  without  my  permission?" 
cried  Frau  von  Werrig. 

"  Silence,  mother ! — if  I  may  be  allowed,  let  us  hear  who  it 
is. — Speak,  dear  Trude,  who  is  it?" 

"It  is  the  Director  Gedicke  from  the  Gray  Cloister,"  sail 
Trude,  with  quivering  voice. 

Marie  was  startled — a  glowing  red  overspread  her  cheel:.a 
and  she  was  obliged  to  lean  against  a  chair  for  support. 

"I  forbid  you  to  receive  him,"  said  her  mother. 

She  suddenly  ceased,  and  stared  at  the  door,  which  opened 
at  that  moment,  the  tall,  dignified  form  of  a  venerable  old 
man  appearing. 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,"  said  he,  with  a  cold,  reserved  manner. 
"  if  I  enter  before  I  receive  permission.  The  command  of  the 


THE  SACRIFICE.  28? 

king,  to  which  I  believe  we  all  yield  without  resistance,  em- 
powers me  to  do  so." 

"How,  sir,  you  come  by  the  king's  order?"  asked  the  gen- 
eral, who  rose  with  difficulty.  "Has  his  majesty  given  you  a 
message  for  General  von  Leuthen  ?" 

"No,  general,  I  come  with  a  communication  from  his 
majesty  to  Fraulein  von  Leuthen,  the  betrothed  of  Herr 
Ebenstreit,  and  the  order  runs  to  deliver  the  same  personally 
and  without  witnesses." 

"Professor,"  cried  the  mother,  shrugging  her  shoulders, 
"  you  mistake  us  for  very  innocent  people,  if  you  suppose  we 
believe  this  silly  invention,  and  that  you  can  gain  a  secret 
conversation  by  a  ruse  with  our  daughter.  You  are  the 
director  of  the  gymnasium,  and  naturally  the  friend  of  Con- 
rector  Moritz.  In  his  name  you  will  speak,  and  bring  a 
secret  message.  Very  sly,  indeed,  very  sly,  but  it  will  not 
succeed." 

For  response,  the  director  drew  two  large  folded  documents 
from  his  pocket,  approaching  the  general.  "  Do  you  recog- 
nize this  seal?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  solemnly  answered  the  general;  "it  is  the  royal 
seal  from  the  king's  private  cabinet." 

"Bead  the  address  upon  this,  and  the  unopened  letter." 

"  Truly,  the  latter  is  directed  to  my  daughter,  and  the 
other  to  Professor  Gedicke." 

Herr  Gedicke  opened  the  letter,  asking  the  general  if  he 
could  recognize  the  king's  handwriting. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  "  I  know  it  well." 

"Have  the  goodness  to  read  the  lines  upon  the  margin," 
said  the  professor,  unfolding  the  letter,  so  that  he  could  only 
read  those  referred  to. 

The  general  read :  "  Professor  Gedicke  shall  go  himself  to 
Fraulein  von  Leuthen,  and  bring  her  to  reason,  reading  the 
document  to  her  withoi't  witnesses.  I  wish  this  affair  to 
come  to  an  end.  Teach  Mamselle  mores!  mores!  mores! 

"FREDERICK." 


288  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"You  have  heard  the  royal  command,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men; will  you  respect  it?"  said  the  professor,  turning  around 
with  an  air  of  proud  satisfaction. 

"My  dear  son-in-law,"  said  the  general,  solemnly,  "  it  is  a 
royal  command;  give  me  your  arm,  as  you  know  I  am 
feeble;  and  you,  my  wife,  take  my  other  arm,  and  we  will  go 
into  the  next  room.  Hush !  not  a  word — we  have  only  to 
obey,  and  not  reason. " 

He  seized  his  wife's  hand  hastily  and  firmly,  that  she 
should  not  slip  away,  and  winked  to  Ebenstreit,  upon  whose 
support  he  crossed  the  room,  drawing  his  wife  with  him,  and 
pushing  open  the  door  of  the  next  with  his  foot. 

Marie  had  stood  during  the  whole  transaction  pale  and 
rigid  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  looking  haughty  and  defiant 
as  long  as  her  parents  and  Herr  Ebenstreit  were  present. 
Now,  as  the  door  closed,  life  and  action  were  visible  in  this 
marble  form ;  she  rushed  to  the  old  gentleman,  scarce  respir- 
ing, and  looking  up  at  his  dignified,  sad  face,  asked:  "Is 
he  living?  Tell  me  only  this,  or  is  he  ill?" 

"  Yes,  he  lives,  he  does  not  suffer  from  bodily  ills,  but  the 
sickness  of  the  soul." 

"And  do  not  I  also?"  asked  she,  with  quivering  voice. 
"  Oh !  I  know  what  he  suffers,  as  we  are  wretched  from  the 
same  cause.  But  tell  me,  have  you  seen  him?" 

"Yes,  Fraulein,  I  have." 

"  Where  is  he?     Where  did  you  see  him?" 

"  In  prison !" 

Marie  grew  paler,  and  retreated,  shuddering.  The  director 
continued :  "  In  a  dark,  damp  prison  at  Spandau.  The  poor 
fellow  has  been  there  for  two  months  without  air,  light,  or 
occupation,  and  his  only  society  is  his  own  revengeful  thoughts 
and  angry  love-complaints." 

Marie  gave  one  hollow  moan,  covering  her  corpse-like  face 
with  her  hands. 

"  In  this  abode  of  torture,  in  this  dwelling  of  the  damned, 
he  must  remain  ten  long  years,  if  death  does  not  release  him?" 


THE  SACRIFICE.  289 

"What  did  you  say?"  she  groaned.  "Ten  long  years? 
Have  they  condemned  him?" 

"  Yes,  he  was  guilty  of  a  great  crime — eloping  with  a 
minor — who,  with  the  king's  consent,  and  that  of  her  par- 
ents, was  betrothed  to  another.  Read  the  sentence  of  the 
court,  which  was  forwarded  to  me  as  the  head  of  the  college 
where  Moritz  was  employed.  See,  here  is  the  king's  signa- 
ture, which  affirms  the  sentence,  rendering  it  legal,  and  here 
upon  the  margin  are  the  lines  your  father  read." 

Trembling,  Marie  perused  the  contents.  "Ten  years  in 
the  house  of  correction!"  she  murmured.  "  On  my  account 
condemned  to  a  living  death !  No,  no,  it  is  impossible !  It 
cannot  be!  Ten  years  of  the  best  part  of  life!  He  con- 
demned as  a  criminal !  I  will  go  to  the  king.  I  will  throw 
myself  at  his  feet,  imploring  for  mercy.  I  am  the  guilty  one 
— I  alone!  They  should  judge  me,  and  send  me  to  the  peni- 
tentiary !  I  will  go  to  the  king!  He  must  and  will  hear  me!" 

"He  will  not,"  sighed  the  director.  "Listen  to  me,  poor 
child !  As  I  heard  the  sentence,  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  summon 
all  my  powers  to  rescue  Moritz,  for  I  love  him  as  a  son,  and 
had  set  my  hopes  upon  him." 

"  I  thank  you  for  this  kind  word,"  said  Marie,  seizing  the 
hand  of  the  old  man,  and  pressing  it  to  her  lips. 

"  I  went  immediately  to  Minister  von  Herzberg,  and,  upon 
his  advice,  as  he  explained  to  me  the  king  might  lighten  his 
punishment,  I  betook  myself  to  Frederick's  winter-quarters 
at  Breslau." 

"  You  noble,  generous  man,  I  shall  love  you  for  it  as  long 
as  I  live.  Did  you  speak  with  the  king?" 

"  Yes,  and  every  thing  that  my  heart  or  mind  could  inspire, 
to  excuse  and  justify  my  unhappy  friend,  I  have  said — but 
all  in  vain.  The  king  was  much  embittered,  because  he  had 
had  the  grace  to  grant  him  an  audience,  and  explain  the  im- 
possibility of  the  fulfilment  of  his  petition.  I  did  not  cease 
begging  and  imploring,  until  I  softened  the  generous  heart 
of  the  king." 


290  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Has  he  pardoned  Moritz?"  Marie  asked,  with  brightening 
hopes. 

"Under  certain  conditions  he  will  allow  that  he  should 
escape  secretly  from  prison.  They  are  formally  written,  and 
if  Moritz  consents  and  binds  himself  by  oath,  he  will  not  only 
be  freed,  but  provided  with  means  to  go  to  England,  and 
receive  immediately  an  appointment  as  translator  to  the  Prus- 
sian embassy  at  London." 

"  What  are  the  conditions,  sir?" 

"  They  are,  first,  that  Moritz  shall  by  oath  renounce  every 
wish  and  thought  of  uniting  himself  with  Fraulein  von  Leu- 
then;  secondly,  that  before  he  leaves  the  prison,  he  shall 
write  to  the  young  lady,  in  which  he  shall  solemnly  release 
her,  and  enjoin  it  upon  her  as  a  duty  to  accept  the  hand  of 
the  man  to  whom  her  parents  have  betrothed  her.  These 
were  the  conditions,  and  the  king  commanded  me  to  go  to 
Spandau,  and  with  sensible  representations,  to  confer  with 
Moritz,  and  persuade  him  to  accept  them,  and  assure  himself 
of  freedom,  and  an  honorable  future,  free  from  care. " 

"You  saw  Moritz?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  communicate  the  conditions?" 

"Yes." 

"And  he?" 

"He  refused,  with  rage  and  indignation!" 

"He  refused?"  cried  Marie,  joyfully.  "Oh,  my  dear  Phil, 
ip,  I  thank  you.  You  love  me  truly  and  faithfully.  Youi 
glorious  example  shall  inspire  me  to  be  as  firm  as  you." 

"Unhappy  child,  you  know  not  what  you  are  saying!" 
cried  the  director,  sadly.  "  If  you  really  love  him,  you  could 
not  follow  his  example.  Read  what  the  king  has  written. " 

She  took,  in  breathless  silence,  the  document,  and  broke 
the  seal,  unfolding  the  paper,  but  her  hand  shook  it  so 
violently,  that  she  could  not  distinguish  the  words. 

She  returned  it  to  the  director.  "  Eead  it,  I  cannot,"  she 
said,  and  sank  kneeling,  looking  up  to  the  old  man  with  un- 


THE  SACRIFICE.  291 

speakable  anguish,  and  listening  to  every  word  that  fell  from 
his  lips.     It  ran  thus: 

"  His  majesty  announces  to  Mademoiselle  Marie  von  Leu- 
then  that  he  is  exceedingly  indignant  at  her  improper  and 
undutiful  conduct,  which  does  not  at  all  become  a  maiden 
loving  of  honor,  and  particularly  a  noble  one.  His  majesty 
ennobled  her  father  for  a  brave  deed,  and  he  is  angry  that  the 
daughter  should  bring  shame  upon  the  title,  in  giving  way, 
not  only  to  a  passion  which  is  beneath  her,  but  is  so  little 
mindful  of  morality  as  to  flee  from  the  paternal  house,  at 
night,  in  an  improper  manner,  with  a  man  whose  wife,  ac- 
cording to  the  command  of  the  king  and  the  will  of  her 
father,  she  could  never  be.  If  his  majesty  did  not  respect 
the  former  service  of  her  father,  and  the  new  title,  he  would 
send  the  daughter  to  the  house  of  correction,  and  punish  her 
according  to  the  law.  But  he  will  leave  her  to  the  reproaches 
of  conscience,  and  let  the  weight  of  the  law  fall  upon  her 
partner  in  guilt,  Philip  Moritz.  He  is  rightly  sentenced  to 
ten  years  in  the  house  of  correction,  and  he  will  not  be  re- 
leased one  year  or  one  day  from  the  same,  as  he  is  guilty  of  a 
great  crime,  and  his  sentence  is  just." 

"Just!"  shrieked  Marie,  in  anguish — "ten  years  just?" 
The  director  continued  to  read :  "  His  majesty  will  propose 
a  last  opportunity  to  the  obstinate  and  inconsiderate  young 
lady  to  reinstate  her  own  honor,  and  release  at  the  same  time 
Conrector  Moritz.  His  majesty  has  personal  knowledge  of 
the  latter,  and  respects  his  scholarly  attainments  and  capa- 
bility, and  would  bring  an  end  to  this  affair  for  the  general 
good.  If  mademoiselle,  as  becomes  an  honorable  young 
woman,  and  an  obedient  daughter,  follows  the  wishes  of  her 
father,  and  without  delay  marries  Herr  Ebenstreit,  and  leads 
a  respectable  life  with  him,  the  same  hour  of  the  ceremony 
Conrector  Moritz  shall  be  released,  and  a  fit  position  be  created 
for  him.  This  is  the  final  decision  of  the  king.  If  the 
daughter  does  not  submit  in  perfect  obedience,  she  will  bur- 
den her  conscience  with  a  great  crime,  and  thank  herself  for 


292  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

Moritz's  unfortunate  fate.  His  majesty  will  be  immediately 
informed  of  her  decision.  If  she  listens  to  reason,  to  moral- 
ity, and  affection,  she  will  submit  to  the  proposition  which 
Director  Gedicke  is  commissioned  to  make  known  to  her,  and 
announce  to  her  parents  in  his  presence  that  she  will 
obediently  follow  their  commands,  Conrector  Moritz  will  be 
at  once  set  at  liberty;  otherwise  he  will  be  sent  to  Branden- 
turg  to  the  house  of  correction.  This  is  the  unalterable  will 
of  the  king.  Signed,  in  the  name  of  the  king, 

"FREDERICK." 

"Now  decide,  my  child,"  continued  the  director,  after  a 
solemn  pause.  "  I  know  nothing  to  add  to  this  royal  writing. 
If  it  has  not  itself  spoken  to  your  heart,  your  reason  and  your 
honor,  words  are  useless." 

"0  God,  it  is  cruel — it  is  terrible!"  cried  Marie.  "Shall 
I  break  my  oath  of  constancy,  becoming  faithless,  and  suffer 
him  to  curse  me,  for  he  will  never  pardon  me,  but  despise  me !" 

She  sprang  up  like  a  tigress,  with  her  eys  flashing.  "  Oh," 
cried  she,  "  he  may  even  believe  that  I  have  been  enticed  by 
riches,  by  a  brilliant  future!  No — no!  I  cannot  consent! 
May  God  have  mercy  on  me  if  the  king  will  not!  I  will  not 
break  my  oath !  No  one  but  Moritz  shall  ever  be  my  husband !" 

"Unhappy  girl,"  cried  the  old  man,  sadly,  "  I  will  give  you 
one  last  inducement.  I  know  not  whether  you  have  any 
knowledge  of  Moritz's  past  life,  so  tried  and  painful,  which 
has  made  him  easily  excited  and  eccentric.  A  danger  men- 
aces him  worse  than  imprisonment  or  death.  His  unaccus- 
tomed life,  and  the  solitude  of  his  dark,  damp  prison,  is 
c.msing  a  fearful  excitement  in  him.  He  is  habituated  to 
intellectual  occupation.  When  he  is  obliged  to  put  on  the 
prisoner's  jacket  in  the  house  of-  correction  and  spin  wool, 
it  will  not  kill  him — it  will  make  him  mad !" 

A  piercing  cry  was  Marie's  answer.  "  That  is  not  true — it 
is  impossible.  He  crazy ! — you  only  say  that  to  compel  me  to 
do  what  you  will.  His  bright  mind  could  not  be  obscured 
through  the  severest  proofs." 


THE  SACRIFICE.  293 

"You  do  not  believe  me?  You  think  that  an  old  man, 
with  gray  hair,  and  one  foot  in  the  grave,  and  who  loves 
Moritz,  could  tell  you  a  shameful  untruth !  I  swear  to  you 
by  the  heads  of  my  children,  by  all  that  is  holy,  that  Moritz 
already  suffers  from  an  excitement  of  the  brain ;  and  if  he 
does  not  soon  have  liberty  and  mental  occupation,  it  is  almost 
certain  that  he  will  become  insane." 

Almost  convulsed  with  anguish,  Marie  seized  the  old  man's 
hand  with  fierce  passion.  "He  shall  not  be  crazed,"  she 
shrieked.  "  He  shall  not  suffer — he  shall  not  be  imprisoned 
and  buried  in  the  house  of  correction  on  my  account.  I  will 
rescue  him — I  and  my  love !  I  am  prepared  to  do  what  the 
king  commands !  I  will — marry  the  man — which — my  parents 
have  chosen.  But — tell  me,  will  he  then  be  free?" 

"To-day  even — in  three  hours,  my  poor  child!" 

"Free!  And  I  shall  have  saved  him!  Tell  me  what  I 
have  to  do.  What  is  the  king's  will?" 

"First  sign  this  document,"  said  the  director,  as  he  drew 
forth  a  second  paper.  "  It  runs  thus :  '  I,  Marie  von  Leu  then, 
declare  that  of  my  own  free  will  and  consent  I  will  renounce 
every  other  engagement,  and  will  marry  Herr  Ebenstreit  von 
Leuthen,  and  be  a  faithful  wife  to  him.  I  witness  with  my 
signature  the  same.' " 

"  Give  it  to  me  quickly,"  she  gasped.  "  I  will  sign  it!  He 
must  be  free!  He  shall  not  go  mad!" 

She  rapidly  signed  the  paper.  "  Here  is  my  sentence  ot. 
death !  But  he  will  live !  Take  it !" 

"  My  child,"  cried  the  old  man,  deeply  agitated,  "  God  will 
be  mindful  of  this  sacrifice,  and  in  the  hour  of  death  it  will 
beam  brightly  upon  you.  You  have  by  this  act  rescued  a 
noble  and  excellent  being,  and  when  he  wins  fame  from 
science  and  art  he  will  owe  to  you  alone  the  gratitude." 

"He  shall  not  thank  me!"  she  whispered.  "He  shall  live 
and — if  he  can  be  happy! — this  is  all  that  I  ask  for!  What 
is  there  further  to  be  done?" 

"  To  announce  to  your  parents  in  my  presence  that  you  will 


294  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

marry  Herr  Ebenstreit,  and  let  the  ceremony  take  place  as 
soon  as  possible." 

"  You  swear  that  he  shall  then  be  released  ?  You  are  an  old 
man — reflect  well ;  you  swear  to  me  that  as  soon  as  the  mar- 
riage takes  place,  Philip  Moritz  will  be  free  this  very  day  and 
that  he  will  be  reinstated  in  an  honorable,  active  occupation?" 

"  I  swear  it  to  you  upon  my  word  of  honor,  by  my  hope  of 
reward  from  above. " 

"  I  believe  you.  Call  my  parents.  But  first — you  are  p. 
father,  and  love  your  children  well.  I  have  never  had  a 
father  who  loved  me,  or  ever  laid  his  hand  upon  my  head  to 
bless  me.  You  say  that  you  love  Moritz  as  a  son !  Oh,  love 
me  for  a  moment  as  your  daughter,  and  bless  me!" 

The  old  man  folded  her  in  his  arms,  tears  streaming  down 
his  cheeks.  "  God  bless  you,  my  daughter,  as  I  bless  you!" 

"  I  dare  not  tarry,"  she  shuddered.  "  Let  my  parents 
enter." 

Slowly  the  venerable  man  traversed  the  room.  Mario 
pressed  her  hands  to  her  heart,  looking  to  heaven.  As  the 
door  opened,  and  the  general  entered,  leaning  upon  Eben- 
streit's  arm,  followed  by  his  wife,  Marie  approached  them 
with  a  haughty,  determined  manner,  who  regarded  her  with 
astonishment. 

"  Father,"  she  said,  slowly  and  calmly,  "  I  am  ready  to  fol- 
low your  wishes.  Send  for  the  clergyman:  I  consent  to 
marry  this  man  to-day,  upon  one  condition." 

"  Make  it  known,  my  dear  Marie.  Name  your  condition. 
I  will  joyfully  fulfil  it,"  said  Ebenstreit. 

"  I  demand  that  we  leave  to-day  for  the  East,  to  go  tc 
Egypt — Palestine — and  remain  away  from  this  place  for 
years.  Are  you  agreed  to  it?" 

"  To  all  that  which  my  dear  Marie  wishes. " 

"  You  can  now  weave  the  bridal-wreath  in  my  hair,  mother. 
I  consent  to  the  marriage." 

Three  hours  later  the  preparations  were  completed.  Every 
thing  had  awaited  this  for  three  months. 


THE  SACRIFICE.  295 

In  the  sitting-room,  the  decorators  had  quickly  built  a 
marriage-altar,  and  ornamented  the  walls  with  garlands  of 
flowers,  with  festoons  of  gauze  and  silk,  with  flags  and  stand- 
ards. The  mother  wore  the  costly  silk  which  her  rich  son- 
in-law  had  honored  her  with  for  the  occasion,  and  also 
adorned  herself  with  the  gold  ornaments  which  were  equally 
his  gift.  The  father  wore  his  gold-embroidered  uniform,  and 
imagined  himself  a  stately  figure,  as  the  gout  left  him  the  use 
of  his  limbs  this  day. 

The  invited  witnesses  began  to  assemble.  Just  then  Eben- 
streit  von  Leuthen  drove  up  in  the  handsome  travelling- 
carriage,  which  was  a  wedding-gift  to  his  wife,  and  excited 
the  admiration  of  the  numerous  street  public. 

Old  Trade,  in  her  simple  dark  Sunday  dress,  had  awaited 
the  appearance  of  the  bridegroom,  and  went  to  announce  his 
arrival  to  the  bride. 

Marie  was  in  her  little  garret-room,  so  unlike  in  its  pres- 
ent appearance  to  its  former  simplicity  and  comfort — as  unlike 
as  the  occupant  to  the  rosy,  smiling  young  girl,  who,  yonder 
by  the  little  brown  table  in  the  window-niche,  taught  her 
pupils,  or  with  busy,  skilful  hands  made  the  loveliest  flowers, 
the  income  of  which  she  gave  to  her  parents,  joyfully  and 
eagerly,  although  she  never  received  thanks  or  recognition 
for  the  same.  Now  the  same  little  table  was  covered  with 
morocco  cases,  whose  half -open  covers  revealed  brilliant  or- 
naments, laces,  and  sweet  perfumes;  superb  silk  dresses, 
cloaks,  and  shawls,  ornamented  with  lace,  lay  about  upon  the 
bed  and  chairs. 

Herr  Ebenstreit  von  Leuthen  had  truly  given  his  bride  a 
princely  dowry,  and  her  mother  had  spread  the  things  around 
her  room. 

Since  Marie  gave  her  consent  to  the  marriage,  she  had  fol- 
lowed out  their  wishes  without  opposition.  She  wore  a  white 
satin  dress,  covered  with  gold  lace,  her  arms,  neck,  and  ears, 
adorned  with  diamonds.  The  coiffeur  had  powdered  and  ar- 
ranged her  hair,  without  her  ever  casting  a  glance  into  the 


296  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

Psyche-mirror  which  her  betrothed  had  had  the  gallantry  to 
send  to  her  room.  She  let  him  arrange  the  costly  bridal  veil ; 
but  when  he  would  place  the  crown  of  myrtle,  she  waved  him 
back. 

"  Your  work  is  finished,"  she  said;  " my  mother  will  place 
that,  I  thank  you." 

As  Trude  entered,  Marie  was  standing  in  the  centre  of  th« 
room,  regarding  it  with  sinister,  angry  looks. 

"  There  you  are,  Trude,"  she  said,  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  a 
moment  alone,  for  I  have  something  to  tell  you.  I  have 
spoken  with  my  future  husband,  demanding  that  you  live 
with  me  as  long  as  I  live.  Immediately  after  the  ceremony 
you  will  go  to  my  future  home  and  remain  there  as  house- 
keeper during  my  absence." 

Sadly  the  old  woman  shook  her  head.  "  No,  that  is  too 
important  a  place  for  me.  I  will  not  lead  a  lazy  life,  and 
play  the  fine  woman.  I  was  made  to  work  with  my  hands." 

"Do  what  you  will  in  the  house,"  answered  Marie.  "  Only 
promise  me  that  you  will  not  leave  me,  and  when  I  return 
that  I  shall  find  you  there.  If  you  leave  me,  I  will  never 
come  back.  Promise  me!" 

"Then  I  will  promise  you,  my  poor  child,"  sighed  Trude. 

Marie  laughed  scornfully.  "  You  call  me  poor — do  you  not 
see  I  am  rich?  I  carry  a  fortune  about  my  neck.  Go,  do 
not  bewail  me — I  am  rich!" 

"Marie,  do  not  laugh  so,  it  makes  me  feel  badly,"  whis- 
pered the  old  woman.  "  I  came  to  tell  you  the  bridegroom 
and  the  clergyman  are  there. " 

"  The  time  has  arrived  for  the  marriage  of  the  rich  and 
happy  bride.  Go,  Trude,  beg  my  mother  to  come  up  and 
adorn  me  with  the  myr tie- wreath. " 

"Dear  Marie,  can  I  not  do  it?"  asked  Trude,  with  quiver- 
ing voice. 

"  No,  not  you ;  touch  not  the  fatal  wreath !  You  have  no 
part  in  that!  Call  my  mother — it  is  time!" 


THE  SACRIFICE.  297 

Trude  turned  sadly  toward  the  door,  Marie  glancing  after 
her,  and  calling  her  back  with  gentle  tone. 

"Trude,  my  dear,  faithful  mother,  kiss  me  once  more." 
She  threw  her  arms  around  Marie's  neck  and  imprinted  a  lov- 
ing kiss  upon  her  forehead,  weeping.  "  Now  go,  Trude — we 
must  not  give  way;  you  know  me;  you  well  understand  my 
feelings,  and  see  into  my  heart." 

The  old  woman  went  out,  drying  her  eyes.  Marie  uttered 
her  last  farewell.  "  With  you  the  past  goes  forth,  with  you 
my  youth  and  hope !  When  the  door  again  opens,  my  future 
enters  a  strange,  fearful  life.  Woe  to  those  who  have  pre- 
pared it  for  me — woe  to  those  who  have  so  cruelly  treated  me ! 
They  will  yet  see  what  they  have  done.  The  good  angel  is 
extinct  within  me.  Wicked  demons  will  now  assume  their 
power  over  me.  I  will  have  no  pity — I  will  revenge  myself; 
that  I  swear  to  Moritz!" 

Her  mother  rustled  in,  clothed  in  her  splendid  wedding- 
garments.  "Did  you  send  for  me,  dear  Marie?"  she  whis- 
pered. 

"  Yes,  mother — I  beg  you  to  put  on  my  myrtle- wreath. " 

"How!  have  you  no  endearment  for  me?"  she  asked, 
smilingly.  "Why  do  you  say  'you'  instead  of  'thou?' ' 

"  It  is  better  so,  mother,"  she  coldly  answered.  "  Will  you 
adorn  me  with  the  bridal- wreath?" 

"  Willingly,  my  dear  child ;  it  is  very  beautiful  and  be- 
coming." 

"  Do  you  realize,  mother,  what  you  are  doing?  You  place 
the  wreath  to  consecrate  me  to  an  inconsolably  unhappy  life 
with  the  man  that  I  hate  and  despise!" 

"  My  dear  child,  I  know  that  you  think  so  to-day ;  but  you 
will  soon  change,  and  find  that  wealth  is  a  supportable  mis- 
fortune." 

"  Mother,  one  day  you  will  recall  these  words.  Crown  me 
for  the  hated  bridal.  The  sacrifice  is  prepared!" 


20 


BOOK  IV. 
THE   VISIBLES   AND   THE  INVISIBLES, 


CHAPTEK    XXVIII. 

OLD   FKITZ. 

THE  war  terminated,  the  hostile  armies  returned  to  their 
different  German  countries.  Frederick  the  Great  had  gained 
his  point,  forcing  Austria  to  renounce  the  possession  of 
Bavaria.  The  Prince  of  Zweibriicken  had  been  solemnly  rec- 
ognized by  him  as  the  rightful  heir  to  the  electorate,  and  the 
lawful  ruler  and  possessor  of  Bavaria.  The  Emperor  Joseph 
had  submitted  with  profound  regret  and  bitter  animosity  to 
the  will  of  his  mother,  the  reigning  empress,  and  consented 
to  the  peace  negotiations  of  Baron  von  Thugut.  Having 
signed  the  document  of  the  same,  in  his  quality  of  co-regent, 
he  angrily  threw  aside  the  pen,  casting  a  furious  glance  at  the 
hard,  impenetrable  face  of  Thugut,  saying:  "Tell  her 
majesty  that  I  have  accomplished  my  last  act  as  co-regent, 
and  I  now  abdicate.  From  henceforth  I  will  still  be  her 
obedient  son,  but  no  submissive  joint  ruler,  to  only  follow 
devotedly  her  imperial  will.  Therefore  I  resign,  and  never 
will  trouble  myself  in  future  about  the  acts  of  the  govern- 
ment." The  emperor  kept  his  word.  He  retired,  piqued, 
into  solitude,  wounded  in  the  depths  of  his  soul,  and  after- 
ward travelled,  leaving  the  government  entirely  to  the  empress 
and  her  pious  confessors. 

Bavaria  was  rescued !  It  owed  its  existence  to  the  watchful- 
ness, sagacity,  and  disinterested  aid  of  Prussia's  great  king. 


OLD  FRITZ.  299 

The  Elector  Maximilian  vowed  in  his  delight  that  he,  as  well 
as  his  successors  and  heirs,  would  never  forget  that  Bavaria 
must  ascribe  its  continuance  to  Prussia  alone,  and  therefore 
the  gratitude  of  the  princes  of  this  electorate  could  not  and 
never  would  be  extinguished  toward  the  royal  house  of  Prus- 
sia. Frederick  received  these  overflowing  acknowledgments 
with  the  calmness  of  a  philosopher  and  the  smile  of  a  skeptic. 
He  understood  mankind  sufficiently  to  know  what  to  expect 
from  their  oaths ;  to  know  that  in  the  course  of  time  there  is 
nothing  more  oppressive  and  intolerable  than  gratitude, 
that  it  soon  becomes  a  burden  which  they  would  gladly  throw 
off  their  bent  shoulders  at  any  price,  and  become  the  enemy 
of  him  to  whom  they  had  sworn  eternal  thankfulness.  Frede- 
rick regarded  these  oaths  of  Bavaria  not  as  a  security  for  the 
future,  but  as  a  payment  on  account  of  the  past. 

"  I  did  not  go  forth  to  render  the  Bavarian  princes  indebted 
to  me,"  said  he,  to  his  only  confidante,  Count  Herzberg,  as 
he  brought  to  him,  at  Sans-Souci,  the  renewed  expression  of 
thanks  of  the  prince  elector.  "  I  would  only  protect  Germany 
against  Austria's  grasp,  and  preserve  the  equilibrium  of  the 
German  empire.  Believe  me,  the  house  of  Hapsburg  is  a 
dangerous  enemy  for  the  little  German  principalities,  and  if 
my  successor  does  not  bear  it  in  mind,  and  guard  himself 
against  their  flatteries  and  cat's-paws,  Austria  will  fleece  him 
as  the  cat  the  mouse  who  is  enticed  by  the  odor  of  the  bacon. 
Prussia  shall  be  neither  a  mouse  in  the  German  empire,  nor 
serve  as  a  roast  for  Austria.  But  she  shall  be  a  well-trained 
shepherd's  dog  for  the  dear,  patient  herd,  and  take  care  that 
none  go  astray  and  are  lost." 

"  Your  majesty  has  drawn  an  unfortunate  character  for  the 
future  of  our  country,"  sighed  Herzberg,  thoughtfully,  "  and 
as  I  must  grant  that  it  is  sketched  with  severe  but  correct 
outlines,  so  it  follows  that  poor  Germany  has  many  combats 
and  hardships  in  store." 

"  What  do  you  mean?"  asked  the  king.  "  What  character- 
istic did  I  name?" 


300  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Your  majesty  pointed  ont  Austria  as  the  cat  watching  for 
prey  in  Germany.  Prussia,  on  the  contrary,  as  the  shep- 
herd's dog,  which  should  watch  the  native  herd,  and 
occasionally  bite  those  who  wander  from  the  flock.  The  com- 
parison is  apt,  and  clearly  exposes  the  natural  hostility  of 
the  two  nations.  Nature  has  placed  the  cat  and  the  dog  in 
eternal  enmity,  and  there  is  no  compromise  to  be  thought  of, 
to  say  nothing  of  friendship.  There  may,  now  and  then,  be 
a  truce ;  the  cat  may  draw  in  her  claws,  and  the  dog  may 
cease  to  howl  and  growl,  but  the  combat  will  renew  itself,  and 
never  end,  but  in  the  death  of  one  party,  and  the  victorious 
triumph  of  the  other." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  king,  nodding  slightly.  "From 
this  natural  hostility  will  proceed  many  combats  and  storms 
for  our  land,  and  much  blood  will  be  shed  on  its  account. 
Let  us  look  to  the  future,  and  try  to  ward  off  the  coming  evil, 
in  erecting  high  barriers  against  the  cat-like  springs  of  the 
enemy.  I  will  think  out  a  security  for  Germany.  But  first, 
mon  cher  ami,  we  have  to  care  for  our  own  country  and  peo- 
ple. The  war  has  greatly  injured  my  poor  subjects.  Indus- 
try is  prostrated  and  prosperity  disturbed.  We  must  seek 
new  sources  of  acquisition,  and  sustain  those  which  are  ex- 
hausted. For  this,  we  must  think  of  fresh  taxes,  and  other 
sources  of  income. " 

"  Sire,"  said  Herzberg,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  "  the  taxes 
are  already  so  heavy  that  it  will  be  difficult  to  increase  them." 

"  You  are  greatly  mistaken,"  cried  the  king,  with  increased 
animation.  "  I  will  impose  a  tax  upon  those  things  which 
are  now  exempt,  and  establish  a  capable  administration  for 
the  purpose.  Bread,  flour,  meat,  and  beer,  the  sustenance  of 
the  poor,  shall  remain  as  they  are,  for  I  will  not  that  they 
shall  pay  more.  But  tobacco,  coffee,  and  tea,  are  superfluous 
things,  which  the  prosperous  and  rich  consume.  Whoever 
will  smoke,  and  drink  tea  or  coffee,  can  and  shall  pay  for 
being  a  gourmand!" 

"  I  beg  pardon,  but  it  is  just  these  taxes  which  will  create 


OLD  FRITZ.  301 

the  greatest  discontent,"  answered  Herzberg.  "  Your  majesty 
will  remember  that  the  duty  on  coffee  was  complained  of  and 
criticised  by  every  one,  and  the  poor  people  grumbled  more 
than  all.  In  spite  of  the  resistance  of  government,  coffee  has 
become,  more  and  more,  a  means  of  nourishment  and  refresh- 
ment for  the  lower  class." 

"I  will  teach  them  to  renounce  it,"  cried  the  king,  strik- 
ing the  table  violently  with  his  staff  "  I  will  not  suffer  so 
much  money  to  go  out  of  the  country  for  this  abominable 
beverage!  My  people  shall  re-learn  to  drink  their  beer,  in- 
stead of  this  infamous  stuff,  as  I  had  to  do  when  a  young 
man.  What  was  good  enough  for  the  crown  prince  of  Prus- 
sia, will  to-day  suffice  for  his  subjects.  I  tell  you,  Herzberg, 
I  will  teach  them  to  drink  their  beer,  or  pay  dearly  for  this 
bad,  foreign  stuff.  Then  we  will  see  which  will  conquer, 
Prussian  beer  or  foreign  coffee." 

"  It  is  possible  that  the  former  will  be  victorious  on  account 
of  their  poverty  and  the  high  duties;  but  in  any  case  the  peo- 
ple will  be  discontented,  and  grumble  against  your  majesty." 

"Do  you  suppose  that  I  care  for  that?"  asked  the  king, 
with  a  quick,  fiery  glance  at  the  calm,  earnest  face  of  his 
confidant.  "  Do  you  think  that  I  care  for  the  applause  of  the 
people,  or  trouble  myself  about  their  complaints?  I  regard 
their  shouting  or  their  grumbling  about  as  much  as  the  hum- 
ming or  buzzing  of  a  fly  upon  the  wall.  If  it  dares  to  light 
upon  my  nose,  I  brush  it  off;  and  if  I  can,  I  catch  it.  Beyond 
that,  it  is  its  nature  to  hum  and  buzz.  Herzberg,  you  under- 
stand that  if  a  ruler  should  listen  to  the  praises  or  discontent 
of  his  subjects,  he  would  soon  be  a  lost  man,  and  would  not 
know  his  own  mind.  The  people  are  changeable  as  the 
weather ;  to-morrow  they  crush  under  their  feet  what  to-day 
they  bore  aloft,  and  praise  one  day  what  they  stone  the  next. 
Do  not  talk  to  me  about  the  people!  I  know  this  childish, 
foolish  mass,  and  he  is  lost  who  counts  upon  their  favor.  It 
is  all  the  same  to  me  whether  they  like  or  hate  me.  I  shall 
always  do  my  duty  to  my  suit] >.•<  i  •-  according  to  the  best  of  my 


302  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

knowledge  and  ability,  as  it  becomes  an  honorable  and  faith- 
ful officer.  As  the  chief  and  most  responsible  servant  of  my 
kingdom,  I  should  be  mindful  to  increase  her  income  and 
diminish  her  expenses — to  lay  taxes  upon  the  rich,  and  lighten 
them  for  the  poor.  This  is  my  task,  and  I  will  fulfil  it  so 
long  as  I  live!" 

"Oh,"  cried  Herzberg,  with  enthusiasm,  "would  that  the 
entire  nation  might  hear  these  words,  and  engrave  them  upon 
their  hearts!" 

"  Why  that,  mon  cher  ? "  asked  Frederick,  shrugging  his 
shoulders.  "  I  do  not  ask  to  be  deified ;  my  subjects  are  per- 
fectly welcome  to  discuss  my  acts,  so  long  as  they  pay  me 
punctually,  and  order  and  quiet  are  respected  and  preserved." 

"  All  that  is  done,"  said  Herzberg,  joyfully.  "  The  machine 
of  state  is  so  well  arranged,  that  she  has  fulfilled  her  duty 
during  the  war,  and  will  soon  reestablish  prosperity." 

"Particularly,"  cried  the  king,  "if  we  rightly  understand 
the  art  of  agriculture.  In  the  end  every  thing  depends  upon 
him  who  best  cultivates  his  field.  This  is  the  highest  art,  for 
without  it  there  would  be  no  merchants,  courtiers,  kings, 
poets,  or  philosophers.  The  productions  of  the  earth  are  the 
truest  riches.  He  who  improves  his  ground,  brings  waste 
land  under  the  plough,  drains  the  swamps,  makes  the  most 
glorious  conquests  over  barbarism." 

"And  those  are  also  conquerors,  sire,"  said  Herzberg,  smil- 
ing, "  who  drain  the  mental  swamps,  and  improve  the  waste 
mental  ground.  Such  are  those  who  increase  the  schools  and 
instruct  the  people.  I  have  caused  the  school  authorities  to 
report  to  me,  according  to  your  majesty's  command.  A 
happy  progress  has  been  noticed  everywhere.  Cultivation  and 
education  are  advancing;  and  since  our  teachers  have  adopted 
the  principles  of  Eousseau,  a  more  humane  spirit  is  percep- 
tible throughout  our  schools." 

"What  principle  do  we  owe  to  Jean  Jacques?"  asked  the 
king. 

"  Sire,  the  principle  that  man  is  good  by  nature!" 


OLD  FRITZ.  303 

"Ah,  inon  cher,  who  says  that  knows  but  little  of  the 
abominable  race  to  which  we  belong!"  * 

"Do  you  not  believe  in  this  doctrine?"  asked  Herzberg. 

The  king  raised  his  large  blue  eyes  musingly  to  the  busts 
placed  upon  the  bookcases,  and  around  the  walls.  They  lin- 
gered long  upon  those  of  Homer,  Plato,  and  D'Alembert; 
then  turned  to  that  of  Voltaire,  with  its  satyr-like  face. 
"No,  I  do  not  believe  it,"  he  sadly  responded.  "  Mankind  is 
an  ignoble  race;  still  one  must  love  them,  for  among  the 
wicked  are  always  some  worthy  ones,  whose  light  beams  so 
brightly  clear,  that  they  change  night  into  day.  During  my 
afe  I  have  learned  to  know  many  base,  miserable  creatures, 
but  I  have  become  reconciled  to  them,  as  I  have  also  found 
some  who  were  virtuous  and  excellent — some  who  were  noble 
and  beautiful,  as  the  grains  of  wheat  among  the  chaff.  You 
belong  to  the  latter,  my  Herzberg;  and  as  in  heaven  many 
unjust  will  be  forgiven  for  one  just  person,  so  will  I  upon 
earth  forgive  on  your  account  the  Trencks,  Schaffgotschs, 
Gomes,  Voltaires,  Wallraves,  Glasows,  Dahsens,  and  all  the 
traitors,  poisoners,  and  perfidious  ones,  as  they  may  be  called. 
Remain  by  my  side  and  sustain  me,  to  prevent  many  a  wicked 
thing,  and  bring  to  pass  much  that  is  good.  I  shall  always 
be  grateful  to  you  in  my  heart  for  it;  that  you  can  depend 
upon,  even  if  my  weather-beaten  face  looks  ill-humored,  and 
my  voice  is  peevish.  Remember  that  I  am  a  fretful  old  man, 
who  is  daily  wasting  away,  approaching  that  bourne  from 
which  no  traveller  has  ever  returned." 

"  God  grant  that  your  majesty  may  be  far  removed  from 
this  bourne!"  said  Herzberg,  with  emotion.  "And  He  may 
grant  it  on  account  of  your  subjects,  who  are  so  much  in  need 
of  your  care  and  government." 

"There  is  no  one  upon  earth  who  could  not  be  replaced/' 
said  the  king,  shaking  his  head.  "  When  I  am  gone,  they 
will  shout  to  my  successor.  I  trust  my  subjects  will  exchange 
a  good  ruler  for  their  fretful  old  king.  I  have  been  very  well 

*  The  king's  words.— See  "  Prussia."  vol.  iv.,  p.  221. 


304  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

satisfied  with  him  during  the  campaign,  and  he  has  shown 
ability  in  the  diplomatic  mission  to  St.  Petersburg.  He  has 
proved  himself  a  soldier  and  a  diplomat,  and  I  hope  he  will 
become  a  great  king.  Herzberg,  why  do  you  not  answer  me, 
but  cast  down  your  eyes?  What  does  your  silence  mean?" 

"  Nothing  at  all — truly  nothing !  The  crown  prince  has  a 
noble,  generous  heart,  a  good  understanding;  only — " 

"Why  hesitate,  Herzberg?     Go  on — what  is  your  'only?" 

"  I  would  only  say  that  the  crown  prince  must  beware  and 
not  be  governed  by  others." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  that  he  will  be  ruled  by  mistresses  and 
favorites?" 

"I  do  fear  it,  your  majesty!  You  well  know  that  the 
crown  princes  are  generally  the  antipodes  of  those  ascendant 
to  the  throne.  If  the  ruler  has  only  an  enlightened  mind, 
and  is  free  from  prejudices,  so — " 

"  Is  his  crown  prince  an  obscurer,"  added  quickly  the  king, 
"  having  the  more  prejudices,  and  is  capable  of  being  ruled 
by  mystics  and  exorcists.  Is  not  that  your  meaning?" 

Count  Herzberg  nodded.  The  king  continued  with  ani- 
mation :  "  Some  one  has  told  me  of  a  new  friend  who 
returned  from  the  war  with  the  prince,  and  who  belongs  to 
the  Eosicrucians  and  exhorters,  and  hopes  to  find  many  ad- 
herents here  for  such  deceptions.  Is  it  true?" 

"  Yes,  sire.  It  is  Colonel  Bischofswerder,  a  Eosicrucian 
and  necromancer  and  of  course  of  very  pleasant  address.  He 
has  indeed  already  gained  much  power  over  the  impressible 
mind  of  Frederick  William,  and  his  importance  is  greatly  on 
the  increase." 

"What  does  the  crown  prince's  mistress  say  to  it?  Is  she 
not  jealous?" 

"  Of  which  one  does  your  majesty  speak?" 

The  king  started,  and  his  eyes  flashed.  "What!"  he  cried 
with  vehemence,  "is  there  a  question  of  several?  Has  the 
crown  prince  others  be^des  Wilhelmine  Enke,  whom  I  have 
tolerated?" 


OLD  FRITZ.  305 

"  Sire,  unfortunately,  the  prince  has  not  a  very  faithful 
heart.  Besides,  it  is  Bischofswerder's  plan,  as  I  suppose,  to 
separate  him  from  Wilhelmine,  who  will  not  subordinate  her- 
self to  him,  and  who  even  dares  to  mock  the  necromancers 
and  visionaries,  and  oppose  them  to  the  crown  prince." 

"Does  Enke  do  that?"  asked  the  king. 

''  Yes,  sire,"  answered  Herzberg,  as  the  king  rose  and  slowly 
paced  the  room.  "  And  one  must  acknowledge  that  in  that 
she  does  well  and  nobly.  Otherwise  one  cannot  reproach  her. 
She  leads  a  quiet,  retired  life,  very  seldom  leaving  her  beau- 
tiful villa  at  Charlottenburg,  but  devotes  herself  to  the 
education  of  her  children.  She  is  surrounded  with  highly- 
educated  men,  savants,  poets,  and  artists,  who  indeed  all 
belong  to  the  enlightened,  the  so-called  Illuminati,  and  which 
are  a  thorn  in  the  eye  to  Colonel  Bischofswerder.  Your 
majesty  will  perceive  that  I  have  some  good  informants  in 
this  circle,  and  the  latest  news  they  bring  me  is  that  the  bad 
influence  is  upon  the  increase.  The  Kosicrucians  reproach 
the  prince  for  his  immoral  connection  with  Wilhelmine 
Enke,  as  they  would  replace  her  by  one  who  gives  herself  up 
to  them." 

"  That  shall  not  take  place,"  cried  the  king.  "  No,  we  will 
not  suffer  that;  and  particularly  when  we  are  forced  to  rec- 
ognize such  abominable  connections,  we  should  endeavor  to 
choose  the  most  desirable.  I  cannot  permit  that  this  person, 
who  has  at  least  heart  and  understanding,  should  be  pushed 
aside  by  Bischofswerder.  My  nephew  shall  retain  her,  and 
sne  shall  drive  away  the  Kosicrucians  with  all  their  deviltries. 
Herzberg,  go  and  tell  the  crown  prince,  from  me,  that  I 
order — " 

His  majesty  suddenly  stopped,  and  looked  at  Herzberg  with 
surprise,  who  was  smiling. 

"  Why  do  you  laugh,  Herzberg?" 

"  I  was  not  laughing,  sire.  If  my  lip  quivered  against  my 
will,  it  was  because  I  stupidly  and  foolishly  dared  to  finish  the 
broken  sentence." 


306  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Well,  how  did  you  manage  to  conclude  it?" 

"Sire,  your  majesty  said,  'Tell  the  crown  prince  that  ± 
order  him' — and  there  you  ceased.  I  added  'order  him  to 
love  Wilhelmine  Enke,  and  be  faithful  to  her.'  I  beg  par- 
don for  my  mistake.  I  should  have  known  that  your  majesty 
could  never  command  the  execution  of  that  which  is  not  to 
be  forced ;  that  my  great  king  recognizes,  as  well  as  I,  that 
love  is  not  compulsory,  or  fidelity  either.  Pardon  me  for  my 
impertinence,  and  tell  me  the  order  which  I  shall  take  to  the 
crown  prince  from  my  beloved  king  and  master." 

The  king  stepped  close  up  to  the  minister,  and  gazed  with 
a  half-sad,  half-tender  expression  in  the  noble  and  gentle  face 
of  Herzberg,  and  in  the  sensible  brown  eyes,  which  sank  not 
beneath  the  fiery  glance  of  Frederick.  Then,  slowly  raising 
his  hand  from  the  staff,  he  menaced  him  with  his  long,  bony 
forefinger. 

"Herzberg,  you  are  a  rogue,  and  will  teach  me  morals. 
Indeed,  you  are  right — love  is  not  compulsory,  but  one  can 
sometimes  aid  it.  Say  nothing  to  the  prince.  The  interior 
of  his  house  must,  indeed,  be  left  to  himself,  but  we  will  keep 
our  eyes  open  and  be  watchful.  Do  so  also,  Herzberg,  and  if 
you  discover  any  thing,  tell  me;  and  if  Wilhelmine  Enke 
needs  assistance  against  the  infamous  Rosicrucians,  and  with 
her  aid  this  mystic  rabble  can  be  suppressed,  inform  me,  and 
I  am  ready  to  send  her  succor.  Ah !  Herzberg,  is  it  not  a 
melancholy  fact  that  one  must  fight  his  way  through  so  much 
wickedness  to  obtain  so  little  that  is  good?  My  whole  life  has 
passed  in  toil  and  trouble ;  I  have  grown  old  before  my  time, 
and  would  rest  from  my  labors,  and  harvest  in  the  last  few 
years,  what  I  have  sown  in  a  lifetime.  Is  it  not  sad  that  I 
hope  for  no  fruit,  and  that  the  seed  that  I  have  scattered  will 
be  trodden  under  foot  by  my  successor?  I  must  gaze  at  the 
future  without  joy,  without  consolation!" 

The  king  turned  to  the  window,  perhaps  to  hide  the  tears 
which  stood  in  his  eyes.  Herzberg  did  not  presume  to  inter- 
rupt the  sad  silence,  but  gazed  with  an  expression  of  the 


OLD  FRITZ.  307 

deepest  sympathy  at  the  little  bent  form,  in  the  threadbare 
coat.  Grief  filled  his  heart  at  the  thought  that  this  head  was 
not  only  bowed  down  by  the  weight  of  years  and  well-deserved 
laurels,  but  also  from  its  many  cares  and  griefs,  and.  hopeless 
peering  into  the  future. 

The  king  turned  again,  and  his  eyes  were  bright  ana  un- 
dimmed.  "We  must  never  lose  courage,"  said  he,  "and  we 
must  have  a  reserve  corps  in  life  as  well  as  upon  the  field  of 
battle.  For  the  world  resembles  the  latter,  and  the  former  is 
a  continual  war,  in  which  we  must  not  be  discouraged  nor 
cast  down,  if  there  is  not  hope  in  our  souls.  I  will  cling  i  o 
hope.  As  you  have  said,  and  I  have  also  found  it  true,  that 
the  crown  prince  is  a  good  and  brave  man,  and  possesses  a 
sound,  keen  understanding,  we  may  succeed  in  bringing  him 
back  from  the  erroneous  ways  in  which  his  youth,  levity,  and 
the  counsels  of  wicked  friends  have  led  him.  We  will  try 
with  kindness  and  friendliness,  as  I  believe  these  have  more 
effect  upon  him.  Let  us  not  even  scorn  to  aid  Wilhelmine 
Enke,  in  so  far  as  is  compatible  with  honor.  If  a  mistress  is 
necessary  to  the  happiness  of  the  prince,  this  one  seems  the 
most  worthy  of  all  to  encourage.  Beyond  the  clouds  the  stars 
are  still  shining,  and  it  appears  to  me  as  if  I  see  in  per- 
spective, in  the  heaven  of  Prussia's  future,  a  star  which 
promises  a  bright  light  with  years.  Do  you  not  think  with 
me,  the  little  Prince  Frederick  William  is  a  rising  star?" 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,"  answered  Herzberg,  joyfully.  "He 
is  a  splendid  little  boy,  of  simple  and  innocent  heart,  ::n.l 
bright,  vigorous  mind,  modest  and  unpretending." 

"  You  see,"  cried  the  king,  evidently  cheered,  "there  is  ci:, 
star,  and  we  will  watch  over  it,  that  it  is  not  obscured,  i 
must  see  the  prince  oftener.  He  shall  visit  me  every  month 
and  his  governors  and  teachers  shall  report  to  me  every  quar- 
ter. We  will  watch  over  his  education,  and  train  him  to  be 
a  good  king  for  the  future,  and  guard  ourselves  against  being 
pusillanimous,  foolish,  and  fretful,  and  not  be  discouraged  in 
life.  I  have  entered  my  last  lustrum,  or  five  years.  Hush ! 


308  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

do  not  dispute  it,  but  believe  me !  My  physique  is  worn  out, 
and  the  mental  grows  dull,  and  although  I  live  and  move 
about,  I  am  half  in  the  grave.  There  are  two  coffins  in  this 
room,  which  contain  the  greater  part  of  my  past.  Look 
around,  do  you  not  see  them?" 

"No,"  said  Herzberg,  as  he  glanced  at  the  different  articles 
of  furniture,  "  I  see  none." 

"  Look  upon  the  table  by  the  window — what  do  you  there 
see?" 

"  Your  majesty,  there  is  an  instrument-case  and  a  sword- 
sheath." 

"  They  are  the  ones  I  refer  to.  In  the  case  lies  my  flute, 
that  is  to  say,  my  youth,  love,  poesy,  and  art,  are  encoffined 
there.  In  the  sheath  is  my  sword,  which  is  my  manhood, 
energy,  laurels,  and  fame.  I  will  never  play  the  flute  or  draw 
the  sword  again.  All  that  is  past!" 

"  But  there  still  remains  for  the  great  king  a  noble  work  to 
perfect,"  cried  Herzberg.  "Youth  has  flown,  and  the  war- 
songs  are  hushed.  The  poet  and  hero  will  change  to  the 
lawgiver.  Sire,  you  have  made  Prussia  great  and  powerful 
externally;  there  remains  a  greater  work,  to  make  her  the 
same  within.  You  have  added  new  provinces,  give  them  now 
a  new  code  of  laws.  You  will  no  longer  unsheath  the  sword 
of  the  hero;  then  raise  that  of  justice  high  above  your 
subjects!" 

"I  will,"  cried  the  king,  with  beaming  eyes.  "You  have 
rightly  seized  and  comprehended  what  alone  seems  to  mo 
worthy  of  will  and  execution.  There  shall  be  but  one  law  for 
the  high  and  the  low,  the  poor  and  the  rich.  The  distin- 
guished Chancellor  Carmer  shall  immediately  go  to  work 
upon  it,  and  you  shall  aid  him.  The  necessity  of  such  a  re- 
form we  have  lately  felt  in  the  Arnold  process,  where  the 
judge  decided  in  favor  of  the  rich,  and  wronged  the  poor 
man.  How  could  the  judge  sustain  Count  Schmettau  against 
the  miller  Arnold,  who  had  been  deprived  of  the  water  for  his 
mill,  when  it  was  so  evident  that  it  was  unjust?" 


FREDERICK  AND  COUNT  VON  HERZBEIIG. 


OLD  FRITZ.  309 

"I  beg  pardon,  majesty,  but  I  believe  the  judge  obeyed  the 
very  letter  of  the  law,  and — " 

"Then  this  law  must  be  annulled,"  interrupted  the  king. 
"  This  is  why  I  revoked  the  judge's  sentence,  and  sent  the 
obstinate  fellows  to  the  fortress,  sustaining  the  miller  in  his 
right,  deposing  the  arrogant  Chancellor  Fiirst.  I  had  long 
resolved  upon  it,  for  I  knew  that  he  was  a  haughty  fellow, 
who  let  the  poor  crowd  his  anteroom,  and  listened  to  the  flat- 
tery of  the  high-born  rabble  who  courted  him.  I  only  waited 
an  occasion  to  bow  his  haughty  head.  This  offered,  and  I 
availed  myself  of  it,  voild,  tout.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  it  will 
be  a  good  example  for  all  courts  of  justice.  They  will  re- 
member that  the  least  peasant  and  beggar  is  a  human  being 
as  much  as  the  king,  and  that  justice  should  be  accorded  to 
him.  If  they  do  not,  they  will  have  to  deal  with  me.  If  a 
college  of  justice  practises  injustice,  it  is  more  dangerous  than 
a  band  of  robbers ;  for  one  can  protect  himself  from  the  lat- 
ter, but  the  former  are  rascals  wearing  the  mantle  of  justice, 
to  exercise  their  own  evil  passions,  from  whom  no  man  can 
protect  himself,  and  they  are  the  greatest  scoundrels  in  the 
world,  and  deserve  a  double  punishment.  I  therefore  deposed 
the  unjust  judge,  and  sent  him  to  the  fortress  at  Spandau, 
that  all  might  take  warning  by  his  fate."  * 

"  This  Arnold  trial  belongs  to  history,"  said  Herzberg. 
"  The  lawyers  will  refer  to  it  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  and 
the  poor  and  the  oppressed  will  recall  and  bless  the  thought- 
fulness  of  the  great  king,  who  would  open  just  as  wide  a  gate 
for  them  to  enter  the  heaven  of  justice  as  to  the  rich  and 
noble.  This  new  code  of  laws  will  beam  above  the  crown  of 
gold  and  of  laurels,  with  the  splendor  of  the  civil  crown, 
whose  brilliants  are  the  tears  of  gratitude  of  your  people." 

"May  it  be  so,"  said  Frederick,  with  earnestness.  "Now 
tell  me,  do  you  know  what  day  cf  the  month  it  is?" 

"  Sire,  it  is  the  30th  of  May." 

"  Yes,  you  will  remember  it  is  the  anniversary  of  Voltaire's 

*  The  king's  own  words.— See  "Prussia,  Frederick  the  Great,"  vol.  iv. 


310  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

death,  and  after  I  have  quarrelled  for  two  years  with  the 
priests  and  so-called  holy  fathers  at  Eome,  I  have  gained  my 
point,  and  the  honor  shall  be  shown  him  here  in  Berlin  which 
the  priests  and  friars  have  refused  to  the  immortal  poet  in  his 
own  country.  To-day,  exactly  at  the  hour  which  Voltaire 
died,  the  mass  for  the  dead  will  be  read  in  the  Catholic 
church,  to  free  his  immortal  soul  from  purgatory.  I  have, 
indeed,  no  idea  of  an  immortal  soul.  If  there  are  any,  and  if 
it  has  to  endure  the  threefold  heat  of  which  Father  Tobias, 
of  Silesia,  related  to  me,  I  do  not  believe  that  the  priests,  for 
a  few  thalers,  can  loose  the  unhappy  spirit  from  the  bake- 
oven.  But  as  they  refuse  burial  to  the  spirit  of  Voltaire,  in 
order  to  insult  him  after  death,  so  must  I  avail  myself  of  this 
occasion  to  offer  a  last  homage  to  the  great  poet,  which  will 
take  place  at  four  o'clock.  Go  to  the  mass,  Herzberg,  and 
tell  me  to-morrow  how  it  went  off — whether  the  priests  make 
right  pious  faces  and  burn  much  incense.  Adieu.  Au 
revoir,  demain." 

As  the  king  dismissed,  with  a  friendly  wave  of  the  hand, 
his  confidential  minister,  he  passed  into  his  cabinet,  remain- 
ing an  hour  with  his  counsellors.  At  dinner  appeared  some 
of  the  generals,  weather-worn  and  bent,  with  wrinkled  faces 
and  dull  eyes.  Souvenirs  of  the  glorious  years  of  fame  and 
victory.  The  king  nodded  kindly  to  them,  but  during  the 
entire  meal,  he  only  let  some  indifferent  questions  fall  from 
his  lips,  which  were  devotedly  and  tediously  answered  by  some 
one  of  the  old  generals.  As  their  dry,  peevish  voices  re- 
sounded through  the  high,  vaulted  room,  it  seemed  to 
reawaken  in  Frederick's  heart  the  souvenirs  of  memory  and 
become  the  echo  of  vanished  days.  He  gazed  up  at  the  little 
Cupids,  in  the  varied  play  of  bright  colors,  looking  down 
from  the  clouds,  and  the  goddesses  trumpeting  through  their 
long  tubes  the  fame  of  the  immortal,  the  same  as  formerly, 
when  they  smiled  from  the  clouds  upon  the  beaming  face  of 
the  young  king,  dining  in  the  distinguished  circle  of  his 
friends  Voltaire,  D'Argens,  Algarotti,  La  Melbrie,  and  Keith. 


OLD  FRITZ.  311 

The  Cupids  were  fresh  as  ever,  and  the  goddesses  had  not 
removed  the  trumpets  from  their  lips.  But  where  were  the 
friends  of  the  merry  round-table?  Returned  to  dust.  The 
jests  and  poesy  have  died  away — all  have  sunken  to  decay  and 
darkness.  The  king  silently  raised  his  glass  of  Tokay,  gazing 
up  to  the  clouds  and  Cupids,  draining  it  slowly  in  sacrifice 
for  the  dead.  Then  with  a  vehement,  contemptuous  move- 
ment, he  threw  the  glass  over  his  shoulder,  shivering  it  into 
a  thousand  pieces.  The  old  generals,  after  dessert,  had  gently 
sunk  into  their  afternoon  nap,  and  now  started,  frightened, 
looking  wildly  around,  as  if  they  expected  the  enemy  were 
approaching.  Alkmene  crept  from  under  the  king's  chair 
snuffing  with  her  long,  delicate  nose,  the  glistening  pieces  of 
glass,  and  the  footman  bent  himself  to  carefully  pick  them  up. 

The  king  rose  silently, saluting  the  old  generals, pointing  with 
his  staff  to  the  large  folding-doors  which  led  to  the  garden. 

The  footmen  hastened  forward  to  open  them,  and  stand  in 
stiff,  military  order  upon  each  side.  Frederick  walked  slowly 
out,  mounting  the  two  steps  which  led  to  the  upper  terrace, 
signing  to  the  attendants  to  close  the  doors. 

He  was  alone.  Only  Windspiel  was  there  to  spring  about 
joyfully,  barking,  and  turning  to  meet  him,  who  wandered 
on  the  border  of  the  terrace,  where  he  had  formerly  walked 
with  his  friends.  Now  he  stopped  to  gaze  up  the  broad,  de- 
serted steps  which  led  from  terrace  to  terrace,  as  if  he  could 
repeople  them  with  the  well-known  forms,  and  could  see  them 
approach  and  greet  him  with  the  look  of  endless  love  and  con- 
stancy. Then  he  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  as  if  to  seek  there 
those  he  in  vain  sought  upon  earth. 

"  Do  you  not  see  me,  my  friends?"  he  asked,  in  a  gentle 
but  sad  voice.  "  Do  you  not  look  down  wonderingly  where 
once  you  saw  a  cheerful,  smiling  king,  upon  the  now  bent, 
shrunken  old  man,  cold  and  phlegmatic,  who  seldom  speaks, 
and  then  causes  every  one  to  yawn?  Oh,  where  have  you  fled, 
beautiful  spring-time  of  life — wherein  once  we  used  to  enliven 
our  conversations  with  the  wit  of  the  Athenians,  and  the  jest 


312  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

fluttered  npon  our  lips  as  we  glided  through  life  in  the  bold 
enjoyment  of  youth?  Banished  is  the  dance,  and  I  creep 
about,  leaning  upon  my  staff,  enfeebled  in  body,  and  with 
saddened  heart!  Oh,  awful  change,  unhappy  old  age!  What 
does  it  aid  me  that  I  am  a  king?  I  have  won  many  a  battle, 
but  now  I  am  vanquished  by  age  and  death  and  am  alone!"  * 

A  slight  breeze  rustled  through  the  trees,  fanning,  caress- 
ingly, the  cheeks  of  the  king.  The  perfume  of  sweet  flowers 
rose  from  the  terrace,  and  below  rushed  the  cascade.  The 
marble  groups  around  the  fountain  glistened  in  the  golden 
rays  of  the  sun,  and  in  the  dark  foliage  fluttered  and  sang  the 
merry  birds  of  summer. 

Suddenly  the  wind  wafted  from  the  church  at  Potsdam  the 
clear  tones  of  a  bell,  announcing  to  the  king  the  hour  of  four, 
the  death  of  Voltaire. 

The  king  walked  along  to  the  rose-arbor,  to  the  temple  of 
friendship,  where  the  bust  of  his  sister  Frederika  was  placed. 
He  seated  himself  near  the  entrance,  listening  to  the  ringing 
voice  of  the  bell,  and  recalling  that  the  death-mass  had  now 
commenced  in  Berlin. 

The  service  sacred  to  memory!  The  prayer  for  the  im- 
mortal soul !  As  the  lonely  king  sat  there,  calm  and  bowed 
down,  a  solemn  prayer  and  holy  mass  rose  from  his  own  soul. 
He  bowed  lower  his  head,  and,  without  realizing  it  himself, 
traced  letters  in  the  sand  at  his  feet,  with  no  witness  but  the 
blue  heavens  above  him,  and  Windspiel  who  curiously  eyed 
the  lines.  Thinking  of  the  prayer  for  Voltaire's  undying 
soul,  the  king  had  written  the  word  of  profoundest  mystery 
and  revelation,  of  hope  and  prophecy — "Immortality." 

The  wind  gently  rustled  in  the  trees,  wafting  the  perfume 
of  flowers.  Sweet  stillness  reigned  around,  and  lowly  sang 
the  birds  as  if  not  to  waken  the  king,  who  slept  by  the  marble 
form  of  his  beloved  sister — Windspiel  upon  his  knees,  and  in 
the  sand  at  his  feet  the  word  traced  by  his  own  hand, 
"  Immortality. " 

*  The  king's  words.— See  "Posthumous  Works,"  vol.  x.,  p.  100. 


CAGLIOSTRO'S  RETURN.  313 

CHAPTER    XXIX. 

CAGLIOSTRO'S  RETURN. 


WILHELMINE  ENKE  was  still  living  at  her  villa  at  Char- 
lottenburg.  She  was,  as  formerly,  the  "  unmarried  "  daughter 
of  the  hautboy-player,  the  favorite  and  friend  of  the  crown 
prince;  the  same  as  two  years  previous,  when  he  presented 
her,  before  the  Bavarian  campaign,  with  this  house  and 
grounds.  There  was  no  change  in  her  outward  circum- 
stances ;  her  life  passed  regularly  and  calmly.  The  once  fresh 
and  beautiful  cheek  had  lost  somewhat  of  its  youthful,  roseate 
hue,  and  the  smile  of  the  ruby  lips  was  less  haughty,  and  the 
warmth  of  those  brilliant  eyes  was  subdued.  This  was  the 
only  perceptible  difference  wrought  by  the  little  vexations 
nnd  troubles  incident  to  her  position.  She  had  found  some 
bitter  drops  in  the  golden  goblet  which  the  prince  in  his  love 
pressed  to  her  lips  —  drops  which  were  uncongenial  to  lips  ac- 
customed to  the  sweets  of  life. 

To-day  she  had  awaited  him  at  dinner,  and  had  just  re- 
ceived a  very  friendly  but  laconic  letter,  excusing  himself 
until  the  following  morning.  This  was  an  unpalatable  drop. 
AVilhlemiue  paced  back  and  forth  the  solitary,  gloomy  path, 
at  the  foot  of  the  garden,  re-reading  this  letter,  and  examin- 
ing every  word  to  search  out  its  hidden  meaning. 

"They  have  brought  this  about,"  she  mrumured,  tearing 
the  letter  into  little  pieces,  which  lighted  upon  the  shrubbery 
like  butterflies.  "  Yes,  it  is  their  work.  They  have  sought 
by  all  possible  means  to  draw  him  into  their  power,  and  away 
from  me.  And  they  will  succeed,  as  there  are  two  of  them, 
and  the  princess  sustains  them  ;  and  I  am  alone,  unsupported. 
I  am  entirely  alone  —  alone!" 

"If  you  are  alone,  then,  it  is  surely  your  own  fault,"  said 
an  earnest,  solemn  voice,  and  at  the  same  instant  a  tall  form 
approached  from  the  shrubbery  which  bordered  the  side  of 
the  garden. 

21 


314  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Cagliostro!"  shrieked  Wilhelmine,  shrinking  terrified 
away.  "  Oh,  mercy  upon  me,  it  is  Cagliostro!" 

"  Why  are  you  so  frightened,  my  daughter?"  he  asked, 
gently.  "Why  do  you  withdraw  from  me,  and  cast  down 
your  eyes?" 

"I  thought  you  were  in  Courland,"  she  stammered,  con- 
fused. 

"  And  whilst  you  thought  me  afar,  you  forgot  your  sacred 
oath  and  holy  duty,"  he  replied,  in  a  harsh,  severe  tone. 
"Oh  my  daughter,  the  Invisibles  weep  and  lament  bitterly 
over  you." 

"I  am  curious  to  see  these  tears,"  said  Wilhelmine,  who 
had  now  recovered  her  self-composure.  "  Do  you  think,  Herr 
Magus,  any  of  them  could  be  found  in  the  eyes  of  Colonel 
Bischofswerder  and  his  intimate  friend  Wollner?  Do  you 
pretend  that  they  also  weep  over  me?" 

"  They  do  not  belong  to  the  Invisibles,  but  the  Visibles. 
But  their  souls  are  true  and  faithful,  and  would  have  to 
mourn  over  the  unhappy  one  who  could  forget  her  vows." 

"  Then  allow  me  to  say  that  I  abjure  these  tears,  and  laugh 
at  the  idea  that  these  hypocrites  and  necromancers  weep  over 
me." 

"  My  daughter,  what  words  are  these,  and  how  strangely 
altered  you  are !  I  have  come  from  the  far  north,  and  but 
just  alighted  from  the  travelling-carriage.  I  came  at  once  to 
see  you,  and  hoped  to  be  greeted  joyfully  with  a  kiss  of  love, 
and  what  do  I  hear  instead?  Harsh  words  filled  with  scorn 
and  mockery,  and  disobedience  against  the  Invisible  Fathers, 
to  whom  you  have  sworn  fidelity  and  submission !" 

"  You  have  forced  me  to  it!"  she  cried,  impetuously.  "  In 
my  own  house  you  came  upon  me  and  compelled  me  to  take 
part  in  your  mystic  assembly." 

"  If  one  loves  humanity,  he  must  insist  upon  its  accepting 
happiness,"  said  Cagliostro,  solemnly.  "  We  recognized  in 
you  one  of  the  elect,  one  of  the  great  souls  which  are  worthy 
to  see  the  light,  and  sun  themselves  in  the  rays  of  knowledge. 


CAGLIOSTRO'S  RETURN.  315 

Therefore  we  accepted  you  among  the  spirits  of  the  alliance, 
and — " 

"  And  made  great  promises,  of  which  not  one  has  been  ful- 
filled. Where  is  the  title  of  countess,  the  influence,  position, 
honor,  and  dignity,  which  you  prophesied  to  me?" 

"  Where  are  the  deeds  you  promised  to  perform,  the  wit- 
nesses  of  your  fidelity  and  devotion?"  he  thunderingly 
demanded.  "  You  have  dared  to  rebel  against  the  holy 
alliance !  Your  short-sighted  spirit  presumes  to  mock  those 
watchful  eyes  which  perceive  that  you  are  straying  away! 
Beware — Wilhelmine,  beware!  I  came  to-day  to  warn  you, 
but  when  I  return  it  will  be  to  punish  you.  Turn,  oh  turn 
while  there  is  yet  time !  Submit  your  will  to  the  Fathers,  as 
you  have  sworn  to  do!  The  promised  reward  will  not  fail, 
and  Wilhelmine  Enke  will  become  a  countess,  a  princess,  and 
the  most  distinguished  and  powerful  will  bow  before  her. 
The  Fathers  demand  of  you  repentance,  and  renunciation  Ox 
the  worst  enemies  of  the  Eosicrucians.  Members,  and  even 
chiefs  and  pioneers  of  the  Illuminati  and  Freemasons  are  wel- 
comed at  your  house." 

"Why  should  they  not  be?"  asked  she,  smiling.  "They 
are  happy,  cheerful  spirits,  void  of  mysteries,  and  do  not 
torture  people  with  mysticisms.  They  have  but  one  aim,  a 
great  and  glorious  one,  to  free  the  mind  from  superstition 
and  hypocrisy.  They  encounter  with  open  countenance  the 
false  devotees  who  would  force  men  into  spiritual  servitude, 
that  they  may  become  the  slaves  of  their  will.  You  call  them 
'Illuminati,'  while  they  have  undertaken  to  illuminate  the 
minds  with  the  beams  of  knowledge  which  the  Eosicrucians 
obscure  in  a  mystical  fog." 

"  Unhappy  one,  do  you  dare  to  say  that  to  me?"  cried  Ca 
gliostro,  menacingly. 

"Yes,"  she  responded,  keeping  her  large,  brown  eyes 
firmly  fixed  upon  Cagliostro's  angry  face.  "  That  I  dare  to 
repeat  to  you,  and  I  would  also  remark  that  we  are  not  in  the 
mystical  assembly  of  the  Bosicrucians,  and  your  familiar  'Du' 


316  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

is  out  of  place.  I  belong  to  the  Illuminati,  and  mingle  with 
the  freethinkers.  They  have  not,  indeed,  promised  me  titles, 
honors,  or  dignities,  but  they  have  amused  me,  have  driven 
ennui  from  the  house,  and  instead  of  mysticisms,  brought  me 
poesy,  and  instead  of  the  invisible  holy  church,  the  Greek 
temple.  It  is  possible  my  life  may  not  be  a  godly  one,  but  it 
is  as  happy  as  the  gods,  and  that  is  something  in  this  tedious 
world." 

"I  regard  you  with  astonishment,"  said  Cagliostro,  "for  I 
recognize  in  your  countenance  that  the  devil  has  won  you 
over  to  his  power,  and  in  you  he  speaks  with  the  bold  in- 
solence of  the  sinful.  Subdue,  unhappy  child,  your  rash 
speech,  that  the  Fathers  may  not  hear  of  it,  and  crush  you  in 
their  wrath." 

"  I  do  not  fear  their  thunderbolts,  permit  me  to  tell  you. 
We  are  in  Prussia ;  the  great  king  watches  over  all  his  sub- 
jects; neither  the  Eomish  Church  nor  the  Bosi  crucians  can 
obscure  the  light  of  knowledge.  He  will  not  suffer  a  ghost, 
sneaking  in  the  dark,  to  exercise  power  here,  and  he  will  not 
refuse  the  protection  to  me  which  is  accorded  to  the  least  of 
his  subjects.  I  do  not  fear  you,  and  I  will  tell  you  the  truth 
entire,  I  believe  you  to  be  a  hypocrite  and  a  charlatan, 
who — " 

"Miserable  one!"  interrupted  Cagliostro,  as  he  furiously 
rushed  to  her,  seizing  her  by  the  arm — "  cease,  unhappy  one, 
or  your  life  is  forfeited  to  the  invisible  avengers!" 

Wilhelmine  shook  her  head,  and  encountered  his  flaming 
eyes  with  a  proud  glance.  "  I  repeat  your  own  words — cease, 
or  your  life  will  be  forfeited!  Perhaps  you  think  I  do  not 
know  what  happened  to  you  in  Mittau,  where  you  were  recog- 
nized as  a  charlatan,  who  fooled  the  poor  creatures  into  the 
belief  of  his  miraculous  acts,  which  consisted  in  lightening 
their  purses  to  the  benefit  of  his  own.  You  were  obliged  to 
flee  from  Mittau  in  the  night,  to  save  yourself,  your  treas- 
ures, and  wonderful  man-traps,  and  the  beautiful  Lorenza 
Felieiana.  Beware!  The  Empress  of  Eussia  had  a  certain 


CAGLIOSTRO'S  RETURN.  311 

Joseph  Balsamo  pursued,  who  had  practised  great  deception, 
and  people  pretend  that  he  resembles  Count  Cagliostro.  The 
Empress  Catherine  is  a  good  friend  and  ally  of  the  King  of 
Prussia,  and  if  the  happy  idea  should  occur  to  me  to  propose 
seeking  the  necromancer  here,  the  Great  Kophta  might  come 
to  u  miserable  end." 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  would  only  be  a  welcome  occasion  for 
the  Great  Kophta  to  reveal  himself,  and  hurl  his  despicable, 
malicious  enemy  into  the  dust  at  his  feet,"  replied  Cagliostro, 
calmly.  "  Try  it,  you  faithless,  fallen  daughter  of  the  In- 
visibles— try  to  unloose  the  pack  of  my  enemies,  to  recognize 
that  all  their  yelling  and  barking  does  not  trouble  the  noble 
stag  to  whom  God  has  given  the  whole  world  for  His  forest- 
ward  that  He  should  rule  therein.  I  have  listened  to  you 
unto  the  end,  and  I  regard  your  invectives  and  accusations  a? 
not  worthy  of  a  reply  or  justification,  and  I  laugh  at  your 
menaces.  But  I  warn  you,  Wilhelmine  Enke,  defy  not  the 
Invisibles,  and  offend  not  the  Holy  Fathers,  by  your  continued 
resistance.  Turn,  misguided  child  of  sin — turn  while  there 
is  yet  time !  In  their  name  I  offer  you  a  last  chance,  their 
forbearance  is  without  bounds,  and  their  mercy  long  en- 
during." 

"I  neither  desire  your  forbearance  nor  mercy,"  cried  she, 
proudly.  "  I  will  have  no  companionship  with  my  enemies, 
and  the  Rosicrucians  are  such,  for  Bischofswerder  and  W611- 
ner  both  hate  me,  and  would  put  me  aside.  There  is  no 
reconciliation  where  only  hostility  is  possible." 

"  The  heavenly  listen  not  to  the  voices  of  the  earthly,  and 
prove  themselves  the  most  noble  when  the  least  deserved. 
They  will  protect  and  watch  over  you,  even  against  your  will, 
and  never  will  they  be  deaf  to  your  cry  for  aid  in  the  hour  of 
danger.  Here  is  a  token  of  their  grace  toward  you.  Take 
this  ring — do  you  recognize  it?" 

Wilhelmine  regarded  it  attentively.  "  This  is  the  ring 
which  I  gave  at  the  tribute-altar  instead  of  gold,  which  you 
desired.  ' 


318  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  The  Invisibles  sent  it  to  you  to-day  as  the  precious  pledge 
of  their  favor.  You  shall  keep  it,  and  wear  it  as  a  token  of 
their  heavenly  forbearance,  and  when  you  turn  back  from  the 
erroneous  ways  into  which  the  Illuminati  have  led  you,  send 
it  to  the  circle  of  Berlin  directors,  either  Bischofswerder  or 
Wollner,  and  they  will  come  to  your  rescue.  Farewell!  I 
forgive  you  all  your  wicked  words,  which  fall  like  spent  ar- 
rows from  the  helmet  of  my  righteousness." 

Cagliostro  turned  proudly  away,  and  disappeared  in  the 
bushes. 

Wilhelmine  placed  the  ring  upon  her  finger,  turning  it  to 
watch  the  play  of  colors.  "I  do  not  know  why,"  said  she, 
"  but  it  has  not  the  same  brilliancy  as  formerly.  I  will  take 
it  to  the  jeweller  Wagner,  and  ask  him  if  it  is  the  same  stone. 
Perhaps  the  Great  Kophta  has  tried  some  of  his  miracles  upon 
it.  I  will  at  once  send  the  servant  to  Minister  von  Herzberg, 
and  inform  him  that  Cagliostro  is  here.  He  has  promised 
me  protection  in  the  name  of  the  king,  and  I  feel  that  I  shall 
now  have  need  of  it." 

She  hurried  to  the  house,  and  devoted  herself  to  the  writ- 
ing of  the  said  letter — a  task  she  was  but  little  accustomed  to. 
She  had  learned  to  speak  French  very  prettily,  and  to  express 
herself  skilfully  and  wittily  in  German,  and  under  her  royal 
master,  the  crown  prince  Frederick  William,  gained  much 
valuable  scientific  knowledge.  But  to  write  fluently  was  quite 
another  thing,  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  the  epistle  was 
finished.  However,  happily  accomplished,  she  commanded 
the  servant  to  take  it  to  Berlin. 

He  bowed  with  silent  submission;  but  once  having  quitted 
the  house,  a  cunning  smile  was  visible  upon  his  face,  and  he 
availed  himself  of  a  stage-coach  which  was  going  in  the  same 
direction.  "I  can  afford  this  expense,"  said  he,  arranging 
himself  comfortably.  "When  I  have  money  in  my  pocket 
why  should  I  walk  the  long  distance?  I  was  very  clever  to 
tell  Bischofswerder  that  the  Minister  von  Herzberg  had 
secretly  visited  my  mistress,  and  it  was  equally  clever  of  him 


THE  TRIUMVIRATE.  319 

to  give  me  a  louis  d'or,  and  promise  me  the  same  every  time 
that  I  should  bring  him  important  news.  Indeed,  I  think 
to-day  he  may  well  thank  me,  and  I  believe,  if  I  often  inform 
him,  he  will  advance  me  a  degree,  and  at  last  I  shall  be  ad- 
mitted to  the  circle  of  the  elect,  while  I  now  belong  to  the 
outside  circle,  who  know  nothing  and  hope  every  thing." 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

THE  TRIUMVIRATE. 

WHILE  Wilhelmine's  servant  gave  himself  up  to  his  hopes, 
driving  slowly  down  the  broad  avenue,  an  elegant  four-in- 
hand  carriage  rolled  past  him,  and  stopped  at  the  house  where 
lived  Colonel  Bischofswerder,  long  before  he  had  reached  the 
Brandenburg  Gate.  A  gentleman  sprang  out,  hastening  past 
the  footman  into  the  house,  where  a  servant  evidently  awaited 
his  arrival,  and  preceded  him  with  devout  mien,  throwing 
open  the  wide  folding-doors  and  announcing,  in  a  solemn 
voice — "His  excellency,  Count  Cagliostro."  He  then  re- 
spectfully withdrew,  bowing  profoundly  as  the  count  passed, 
and  closed  quickly  and  noiselessly  the  doors  behind  him. 

The  two  gentlemen  within  hastened  to  meet  the  count,  who 
nodded  smilingly,  and  extended  to  them  with  a  gracious  con- 
descension his  white  hand  sparkling  with  diamonds.  "  My 
dear  brothers,"  said  he,  "you  have  unfortunately  announced 
to  me  the  truth — Wilhelmine  Enke  is  faithless — is  an  apos- 
tate." 

"A  courtesan,  ensnared  by  the  devil  of  unchastity,"  mur- 
mured the  elder  of  the  two — a  man  of  long,  lank  figure,  pale, 
pock-marked  face,  the  broad  high  forehead  shaded  with  but 
little  hair,  the  watery  blue  eyes  turned  upward,  as  if  in  pious 
ecstasy,  and  the  large,  bony  hands  either  folded  as  if  in 
prayer,  or  as  if  in  quiet  contemplation,  twirling  his  thumbs 
around  each  other.  "I  have  always  said  so,"  said  he,  with  a 


380  OLD  FEITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

long-drawn  sigh ;  "  she  is  a  temptress,  whom  Satan,  in  bodily 
repetition  of  himself,  has  placed  by  the  prince's  side,  and  his 
salvation  cannot  be  counted  upon  until  this  person  is  re- 
moved." 

"  And  you,  my  beloved  brother,  think  otherwise — do  you 
not?"  asked  Cagliostro,  gently. 

"Yes,"  answered  Bischofswerder,  "you  know  well,  sublime 
master  and  ruler,  how  much  I  esteem  and  love  the  worthy  and 
honorable  Wollner,  and  how  much  weight  his  opinion  has 
with  me.  In  all  my  reports  to  the  Invisible  Fathers  I  have 
always  particularly  mentioned  him,  and  it  was  upon  my  wish 
and  proposal  that  they  appointed  him  director  of  one  of  the 
three  Berlin  circles.  He  is  occupied  near  me  in  the  con- 
federacy, and  is  also  in  the  service  of  the  crown  prince,  for  it 
was  by  my  especial,  earnest  recommendation  that  his  high- 
ness called  him  to  Berlin  from  the  exchequer  of  Prince  Henry 
at  Eheinsberg,  that  he  might  give  him  lectures  in  politics- and 
other  branches  of  administration.  I  do  not  say  it  to  boast, 
although  I  have  always  regarded  it  as  an  honor  to  have  opened 
the  way  to  a  distinguished  man,  to  have  his  great  talents 
properly  valued.  I  only  say  it  to  prove  my  high  appreciation 
of  dear  brother  Wollner,  and  to  defend  myself,  master,  in 
your  eyes,  that  I  differ  in  opinion  from  him,  and  do  not  ad- 
vise a  violent  removal  of  this  person,  to  whom  the  prince  is 
more  attached  than  he  himself  knows  of." 

"It  is  not  necessary  to  excuse  yourself  to  me,  my  son,"  said 
Cagliostro,  pompously,  "  The  eyes  which  the  Invisibles  have 
lighted  up  with  a  beam  of  revelation,  see  into  the  depths  of 
things,  and  reveal  the  most  hidden.  I  have  glanced  into 
youi  hearts,  and  I  will  tell  you  that  which  I  have  therein 
read.  You,  Hans  Eudolph  von  Bischofswerder,  belong  to 
the  world;  its  joys  and  sorrows  agitate  you.  You  have  a 
longing  for  science  and  the  knowledge  of  the  Invisibles,  and 
you  would  also  enjoy  the  Visibles,  and  take  part  in  the  pleas- 
ures of  life.  What  you  would  allow  yourself,  that  you  would 
also  grant  to  your  royal  master,  whose  friend  and  leader  you 


THE  TRIUMVIRATE.  321 

are,  and  who,  one  day,  will  be  the  future  king  and  ruler  of 
the  visible  world,  and  a  faithful  son  and  servant  of  the  Invis- 
ibles. Is  it  not  thus?" 

"It  is  so,"  answered  Bischofswerder,  who,  with  wondering 
astonishment,  drank  in  every  word  that  fell  from  Cagliostro's 
lips  as  a  revelation.  "  You  have  read  the  inmost  thoughts  of 
my  heart,  and  what  I  scarcely  suspected  myself,  you  are 
knowing  of,  lord  and  master." 

"  Toil  and  strive,  my  son,  and  you  shall  rise  to  the  highest 
grade,  in  which  presentiment  and  recognition,  thinking  and 
knowing,  are  one." 

He  extended  to  Bischofswerder  his  hand,  who  fervently 
pressed  it  to  his  lips ;  then  turned  to  Wollner,  who,  with  up- 
turned gaze  and  folded  hands,  might  have  been  praying,  for  his 
thumbs  were  not  turning  around,  but  rested,  quietly  crossed. 

"  You,  my  son  and  brother,"  continued  Cagliostro,  with  his 
lofty,  haughty  reserve,  "your  thoughts  are  diverted  from 
earth,  and  the  joys  of  this  world  have  no  charm  for  you!" 

"  I  have  laid  the  oath  of  virtue  and  chastity  upon  the  altar 
of  the  Invisibles,"  replied  Wollner,  with  a  severe  tone  of  voice. 
"I  have  given  myself  to  a  pious  life  of  abstinence,  and 
sworn  to  employ  every  means  to  lead  those  that  I  can  attain 
to  upon  the  narrow  path  which  leads  to  the  paradise  of 
science,  of  knowledge,  and  heavenly  joys.  How  could  I  for- 
get my  oath,  which  is  to  win  the  prince,  who  is  to  become  a 
light  and  a  shield  in  the  holy  order,  from  the  broad  course  of 
vice,  to  the  pathway  of  the  blest?  How  can  I  bear  to  see 
him  lost  in  sin  who  is  elected  to  virtue,  and  who  longs  for  the 
light  of  knowledge?" 

"  But,  in  order  to  bear  the  light  in  its  brightness,  he  must 
have  passed  through  the  darkness  and  gloom  of  sin,"  said 
Cagliostro.  "  After  the  days  of  error  follow  those  of  knowl- 
edge. This  is  what  causes  the  mildness  of  our  brother  The- 
ophilus,  whom  the  earthly  world  calls  Bischofswerder,  whilst 
you,  brother  Chrysophorus,  demand  from  the  prince  the 
severest  virtue,  which  is  the  first  great  vow  of  the  brothers 


322  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

advancing  in  the  holy  order  of  the  Eosicrucians.  You  are 
both  wrong  and  both  right.  It  is  well  to  be  lenient  as  brother 
Theophilus,  but  that  must  have  its  limit,  and  the  night  wan- 
derer who  stands  upon  the  brink  of  a  precipice  must  be 
awakened,  but  not  with  violent  words,  or  calling  loudly  his 
name,  because  a  sudden  awakening  would  only  hasten  his  fall 
Slowly  and  carefully  must  he  be  roused ;  as  one  would  by  de- 
grees accustom  the  invalid  eyes  to  the  mid-day,  so  must  the 
light  of  virtue  and  knowledge  dawn  upon  the  eyes,  ill  from 
vice,  with  prudent  foresight.  Hear  my  proposal.  Summon 
the  three  circles  of  the  brothers  of  the  highest  degree  to  a 
sitting  to-night.  You  have  told  me  that  the  prince  desires  to 
belong  to  the  seeing  ones,  and  be  in  communion  with  the 
spiritual  world.  This  night  his  wish  shall  be  fulfilled,  to  see 
the  spirits,  and  a  new  future  shall  rise  before  him.  My  time 
is  limited ;  let  us  arrange  every  thing,  for  the  voices  of  the 
Invisibles  already  call  me  home." 

At  this  instant  a  modest  knocking  was  heard  at  the  door, 
which  was  repeated  at  different  intervals. 

"It  is  my  servant,"  said  Bischofswerder,  "and  he  has  un- 
doubtedly an  important  communication  for  me." 

He  opened  the  door,  speaking  with  the  person  outside  in  a 
low  tone,  and  returned  with  a  sealed  note. 

Cagliostro,  apparently,  was  lost  in  deep  thought  and  in- 
different to  the  conversation  without,  directing  quietly  and 
calmly,  in  the  mean  time,  a  few  questions  to  Wollner,  and, 
as  it  seemed,  listening  only  to  his  answers.  Yet  as  Bischof- 
swerder approached  him,  saying,  "it  is,  indeed,  important 
news ;  I  have  proof  in  hand  that — "  he  interrupted  him  with 
a  commanding  motion,  and  finished  the  broken  sentence: 
"  — that  TVllhelmine  Enke  is  a  powerful  adversary,  having  con- 
nection with  the  court,  as  this  letter  from  her  is  directed  to 
Minister  Herzberg.  Is  it  not  this  that  you  would  say, 
Theophilus?" 

Astonished,  he  replied  in  the  affirmative,  begging  his  mas- 
ter to  read  it 


THE   TRIUMVIRATE.  323 

"It  is  unnecessary,"  replied  Cagliostro,  waving  back  the 
letter ;  "  to  the  seeing  eyes  every  thing  is  revealed.  This  per- 
son announces  to  Minister  von  Herzberg  that  the  deceiver  and 
necromancer, Cagliostro,  in  his  flight  from  Mittau,  has  visited 
her  to  menace  her.  She  begs  protection  for  herself  and  an 
arrest  for  me;  that  I  am  known  as  Count  Julien,  at  the  hotel 
King  of  Portugal,  at  Berlin,  and  that  haste  is  necessary." 

Both  gentlemen  glanced  astonished  and  enraptured,  first  at 
the  sealed  epistle  and  then  at  the  great  Magus. 

"  Open  the  letter  and  convince  yourselves  of  the  contents!" 
commanded  Cagliostro. 

"  It  is  unnecessary,"  cried  Bischofswerder,  with  enthusiasm, 
"  We  recognize  in  you  truth  and  knowledge ;  you  have  re- 
vealed to  us  the  contents." 

"  Nay,  there  is  a  lingering  doubt  in  the  mind  of  brother 
Chrysophorus!"  said  Cagliostro,  regarding  Wollner  fixedly, 
who  stood  with  downcast  eyes  before  him. 

"  My  ruler  and  master,"  stammered  Wollner,  in  confusion, 
"  I  dare  not  doubt,  only — " 

"  You  would  only  be  convinced:  open  then  the  letter,"  in- 
terrupted Cagliostro,  sarcastically. 

With  a  sharp  knife,  Bischofswerder  cut  the  end  of  the  en- 
velope, and  handed  the  letter  to  him. 

"Give  it  to  Chrysophorus,"  commanded  the  count.  "He 
shall  read  it,  and  may  the  incredulous  become  a  believer!" 

AVollner  perused  the  epistle  with  a  slightly  tremulous  voice, 
stopping  now  and  then,  at  an  illegible  word,  which  his  master 
quickly  supplied  to  him,  finishing  the  sentence  as  correctly  as 
if  he  held  the  writing  in  his  hand. 

The  contents  were  exactly  as  Cagliostro  had  given  them, 
and  the  farther  Wollner  read,  the  more  his  voice  quivered  and 
Bischofswerder's  enthusiasm  increased. 

As  the  reading  was  finished,  the  former  sank,  with  uplifted 
hands,  before  his  master,  as  if  imploring  mercy  from  a 
mighty,  crushing  power. 

"  I  have  been  unbelieving  ;i-  Tobias,  doubting  as  Paul;  have 


324  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

mercy  on  me,  0  master !  for  in  this  hour  the  divine  light 
of  belief  and  knowledge  banishes  doubt  from  my  sinful  heart. 
I  acknowledge  thy  supernatural  power  and  heavenly  wisdom ! 
My  whole  being  bows  in  humility  before  you  and  your  sublim- 
ity, and  henceforth  I  will  only  be  your  humble  scholar  and 
servant,  the  tool  of  your  will.  Forgive  me,  all -knowing  one, 
if  my  heart  doubted.  Breathe  upon  me  the  breath  of  knowl- 
edge, and  lay  thy  august  right  hand  upon  my  head,  and 
penetrate  me  with  thy  heavenly  power. " 

"Have  mercy  upon  me  also,"  cried  Bischofswerder,  as  he 
kneeled  beside  Wollner,  and,  like  him,  raised  his  hands  im- 
ploringly to  Cagliostro.  "  Breathe  upon  me  the  breath  of  thy 
grace,  and  regard  me,  the  repentant  and  unworthy,  with  thy 
heavenly  glance!" 

Cagliostro  looked  to  heaven,  and  from  his  lips  there  fell 
disconnected  words  of  exhortation ;  suddenly  he  drew  forth, 
his  hands,  which  he  had  pushed  into  his  gown  and  crossed 
upon  his  breast,  stretching  them  out  with  wide-spread  fingers. 

"Come  to  me,  ye  spirits!"  he  cried,  in  a  loud,  thundering 
voice.  "Ye  spirits  of  fire  and  air,  come  to  me!  Ye  shall 
flame  and  burn  upon  the  heads  of  these  two  persons  and  an- 
nounce to  them  that  the  Invisibles  are  with  us.  Come  to  me, 
ye  spirits  of  fire!" 

He  clinched  his  fingers,  extending  them  again,  and  upon 
the  points  there  danced  and  flickered  a  blue  light.  A  heavenly 
smile  shone  upon  the  beautiful  face  of  the  Magus,  his  hands 
slowly  sank  upon  the  heads  of  the  kneeling  ones,  the  flames 
gliding  upon  their  heads,  resting  there  a  moment,  and  then 
dying  away. 

"  The  Invisibles  have  proclaimed  themselves  to  you  through 
the  sign  of  fire,"  cried  Cagliostro.  "The  sacred  flame  has 
glowed  upon  your  heads,  and  I  now  press  upon  your  brow 
the  solemn  kiss  of  consecration  and  knowledge!" 

He  bowed  down  to  the  kneeling  ones.  It  seemed  as  if  a 
cloud  of  perfume  had  passed  over  their  glowing  faces,  or  as  if 
an  odorous  lily  had  been  pressed  upon  their  foreheads,  and 


THE  TRIUMVIRATE.  325 

their  hearts  quivered  with  delight.  He  passed  his  hand 
lightly  over  their  faces,  and  a  feeling  of  rapture  spread 
through  their  whole  being.  Then  as  he  commanded  them  to 
rise,  they  obeyed,  without  realizing  that  they  had  limbs  or 
body,  but  regarded  the  miracle-worker,  entranced  with  his 
smile. 

Cagliostro,  with  hasty  decision  and  earnest,  commanding 
air,  made  a  few  opposite  strokes  in  the  air,  and  immediately 
the  faces  of  the  magnetized  looked  as  if  they  had  awakened 
from  a  dream  of  splendor  and  delight  to  insipid,  flat  reality. 

"  I  have  permitted  you  to  behold,  for  an  instant,  the  mys- 
teries and  miracles  which  are  serviceable  to  the  knowing 
ones,"  said  Cagliostro,  with  calm  earnestness.  "Your  souls 
were  in  communion  with  the  Invisibles,  and  from  the  source 
of  knowledge  a  spark  of  illumination  fell  upon  your  heads. 
Guard  it  as  a  heavenly  secret  that  no  one  should  know  of,  and 
uow  let  us  continue  our  conversation." 

"  Permit  me  once  more  to  lay  my  head  at  your  feet,  and 
receive  power  from  the  touch  thereof,"  implored  Bischof- 
*werder. 

"  Let  me  embrace  your  knees,  and  entreat  pardon  and 
grace,"  begged  Wollner,  as  he  sank  down  to  clasp  them;  and 
the  former  threw  himself  at  the  feet  of  his  master,  passion- 
ately kissing  them. 

Smilingly  he  received  their  homage,  and  assisted  them  to 
rise. 

"  Now  let  us  speak  in  a  human,  reasonable  manner,  my 
friends.  Brother  Theophilus,  you,  first  of  all,  return  the 
letter  to  the  envelope  and  seal  it." 

Bischof swerder  obeyed ;  taking  from  the  table  a  little  bottle 
and  a  small  brush,  he  carefully  applied  an  adhesive  substance 
to  the  edges,  pressing  them  firmly  together. 

"  Master,  no  one  could  discover  that  it  had  been  opened. 
Command  what  shall  be  done  with  it." 

"  Give  it  to  your  servant,  that  he  may  return  it  to  him  who 
brought  it,  and  the  latter  can  now  deliver  it  at  its  address. " 


326  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"To  the  Minister  Herzberg!"  they  both  cried,  amazed. 
"  It  is  impossible ;  he  is  a  sworn  enemy  of  the  holy  order  and 
your  own  heavenly  person.  He  could  take  the  most  violent 
measures,  and  cause  your  excellency  to  be  arrested." 

"I  believe  it,"  smiled  Cagliostro.  "The  great  Frederick 
would  announce  triumphantly  that  he  had  had  the  great 
Semiramis  of  the  North  taken,  which  the  Kussian  police  had 
failed  to  accomplish.  It  would  be  a  welcome  triumph  for 
unbelievers  and  fools,  and  they  would  trumpet  it  joyfully 
through  the  world !  It  must  not  be ;  although  my  spirit  in 
its  power  and  might  would  soon  release  my  body,  yet  I  will 
not  grant  this  momentary  triumph  to  my  enemies.  My  time 
is  limited ;  I  must  forth  to  Egypt,  where  the  Brothers  of  the 
Millennium  will  assemble  in  the  course  of  a  week  in  the  pyra- 
mids, to  announce  to  me  their  will  for  the  coming  century. 
I  am  the  Spirit  of  God,  which  the  Invisibles  have  willed  to 
enter  a  human  form,  therefore  it  must  be  regarded  as  sacred 
and  protected." 

"Allow  me  to  guard,  with  my  life,  your  sublime  person!" 
cried  Bischofswerder. 

"  And  I  also  implore  you  to  grant  me  the  happiness  to  watch 
over  the  security  of  your  heavenly  self,  and  defend  it  to  the 
last  drop  of  my  blood!"  cried  Wollner;  "only  tell  us  what 
we  have  to  do." 

"  Above  all  things  obey  my  command  concerning  the  let- 
ter," replied  the  count,  smiling. 

Bischofswerder  submissively  went  out  with  the  epistle,  re- 
turning in  a  few  moments.  "  It  is  as  you  have  ordered :  in  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  it  will  be  in  the  hands  of  Minister  Herzberg.  *' 

"  No,"  replied  the  count,  fixing  his  eyes  upon  empty  space, 
:<  it  will  not  be  there,  for  Herzberg  is  not  at  home.  I  now  see 
him  driving  in  a  carriage  with  four  black  steeds  to  the  coun- 
try. At  this  instant  he  is  crossing  a  bridge,  now  he  enters  a 
town,  turning  down  one  of  the  streets,  where  the  noise  of  the 
wheels  is  lost.  Again  I  hear  him,  leaving  by  the  gate,  ascend- 
ing a  broad  avenue." 


THE  TRIUMVIRATE.  32? 

"It  is  the  route  to  Sans-Souci,"  murmured  Bischofswerder, 
in  a  low  voice,  but  the  count  must  have  understood  him,  as 
he  repeated  aloud: 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  route  to  Sans-Souci,  and  the  lonely,  fret- 
ful old  king  will  keep  his  minister  the  entire  day,  and  will 
not  receive  the  missive  from  his  secret  female  accomplice  until 
his  return  in  the  evening,  and  then  he  will  dispatch  his 
bailiffs  in  all  haste  to  the  hotel  to  arrest  Count  St.  Julien, 
and  forward  an  order  to  every  gate  to  forbid  his  departure. 
It  will  be  too  late,  however — he  will  have  already  departed." 

"Departed!"  cried  the  two  gentlemen,  frightened.  "Will 
you,  then,  forsake  us?" 

"Hush,  my  brothers,  be  quiet!"  answered  Cagliostro.  "I 
shall  have  departed  for  the  profane,  but  I  will  remain  here 
for  the  consecrated  until  to-morrow  morning.  It  oft  happens 
that  the  lofty  even  must  come  down,  and  the  brilliant  obscure 
themselves.  To-day  I  must  descend  from  my  spiritual  height, 
and  humble  myself  in  the  dust  of  lowliness.  "When  the  un- 
holy and  unconsecrated  essay  to  behold  that  which  they 
should  not  with  their  earthly  eyes ;  they  must  be  blinded  with 
earthly  dust,  and  for  those  which  are  not  worthy  of  miracles, 
we  must  sometimes  condescend  to  jugglers'  tricks.  By  the 
latter  I  will  mislead  my  enemies  to-day.  How  many  gates 
are  there  to  the  city  of  Berlin?" 

"  There  are  nine,  master. " 

"  Send  immediately  messengers  around  in  your  circles  to 
order  eight  travelling-carriages  and  sixteen  large  black  trunks. 
Further,  send  me  eight  confidential  discreet  men  of  my  height 
and  size,  with  eight  perukes,  exactly  the  cut  of  mine. 
Command  four  post-horses,  with  two  postilions  for  eight 
different  addresses.  This  is  all  that  is  necessary  for  the  mo- 
ment." 

"All  shall  be  faithfully  and  quickly  accomplished,"  said 
Bischofswerder,  humbly.  "  We  will  divide  the  execution  of 
your  orders,  and  there  only  remains  to  appoint  the  time  and 
place  when  and  where  to  direct  the  postilions." 


328  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  All  this  will  follow ;  forget  not,  in  trifling,  earthly  things, 
the  great  heavenly  circumstances.  Summon  the  consecrated 
of  the  highest  degree  of  your  circle  to  go  to-night  to  the  pal- 
ace of  Prince  Frederick  William  at  Potsdam,  and  under  the 
very  eyes  of  the  old  freethinking  king  we  will  open  to  the 
crown  prince  the  doors  of  the  spiritual  world,  and  consecrate 
him  to  the  highest  degree.  But  first  the  Invisibles  shall 
speak  with  him,  and  announce  the  heavenly  region  of  the  un- 
approachable. Finish  the  preparations,  my  brothers — fulfil 
exactly  and  punctually  my  orders,  and  then  come  to  the  hotel 
to  receive  my  last  commands." 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

FUTUKE   PLAITS. 

CAGLIOSTRO  quitted  the  two  confidants,  entered  his  carriage 
awaiting  him  before  the  door,  and  drove  to  the  hotel.  The 
host  and  chief  waiter  received  him  with  extreme  deference, 
both  accompanying  him  up  the  stairs — the  latter  throwing 
wide  open  the  large  doors  of  his  room.  The  count  turned, 
and,  in  addressing  some  indifferent  question  to  the  host, 
opened  his  gold-embroidered  blue  satin  vest. 

The  host  turned  pale,  and  shrank  back,  as  if  seized  with  a 
sudden  fright.  Cagliostro  passed  on,  motioning  him  to  fol- 
low, which  he  humbly  obeyed,  sinking  upon  his  knees  as  the 
door  closed. 

"Have  you  recognized  the  sign  which  I  wear  upon  my 
breast?" 

"Yes,  master,"  he  stammered,  bowing  down  with  the 
greatest  reverence. 

"  Tiicn  you  belong  to  the  elect  of  the  Inner  Temple,  for  the 
sign  of  knowledge  is  only  made  known  to  them." 

"I  do,  indeed,  understand  its  mysteries,  master,  and  I 
know  that  one  of  the  Invisibles,  in  infinite  condescension, 


FUTUKE  PLANS.  329 

appears  in  a  visible  form  before  me.  Immeasurable  as  the 
happiness,  is  my  obedience !  Command  me,  master ;  my  life 
and  riches  belong  to  the  holy  alliance!" 

"  Rise  and  receive  my  orders,"  replied  Cagliostro,  with  great 
dignity.  In  a  brief,  dictatorial  manner  he  communicated  the 
necessary  arrangements;  then  dismissed  him  with  a  haughty 
nod,  and  entered  the  adjoining  room  of  his  wife,  Lorenza 
Feliciana. 

She  had  thrown  herself  upon  the  divan,  in  charming 
neglige.  Her  head  was  encircled  with  black  ringlets,  which 
she  wore  unpowdered,  despite  the  fashion.  Her  eyes  were 
closed,  and  her  beautiful  shoulders  were  but  half  concealed  by 
a  black  lace  veil. 

She  slept  so  quietly  and  soundly  that  the  count  did  not 
awaken  her  upon  entering.  He  approached  her  lightly  upon 
the  soft  carpet,  and  stood  regarding  her  attentively.  A  pleas- 
ant smile  spread  over  his  face,  softening  its  expression,  and 
his  eyes  beamed  with  passionate  tenderness. 

"  She  is  indeed  beautiful,"  he  murmured,  softly.  "  No  one 
could  withstand  the  charm  of  this  wonderful  woman.  Ah, 
would  that  I  could  crush  these  wicked  spirits  within  me, 
silence  all  these  seductive,  sinful  voices,  and  fly  to  some  se- 
cluded valley  of  our  dear  fatherland,  and  there,  reposing  on 
her  love,  let  life  glide  calmly  on  and  smile  at  the  past  without 
regret,  as  a  fading  dream !  Would  that  I  could  forget,  and 
become  again  pure  and  innocent,  blest  in  my  affection,  simple 
in  my  tastes,  and  without  wants!  But  no,  it  is  too  late!  I 
cannot  retreat,  the  demons  will  not  be  driven  out ;  to  them 
my  soul  belongs,  and  I  must  fulfil  my  destiny ! — Awake,  Lo- 
renza, awake!"  Her  beautiful  form  shook  with  fright;  she 
started,  opened  her  eyes,  demanding,  "  What  is  the  matter? 
Who  is  here?" 

"  It  is  I,  Lorenza,"  he  said,  sadly;  "  I  was  obliged  to  awaken 
you,  to  tell  you  something  important." 

"Are  the  pursuers  here?     Have  they  discovered  us?     Are 
they  coming  to  take  us  to  prison?" 
22 


330  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"No,  no;  be  quiet,  Lorenza,  no  one  has  discovered  us!" 

"Quiet!"  she  repeated,  with  a  scornful  laugh.  "We  have 
travelled  day  and  night  the  last  ten  days,  hiding  ourselves  in 
miserable  holes  and  dens,  under  assumed  names,  believing  our 
pursuers  were  at  our  backs ;  and  now  that  we  are  showing 
ourselves  publicly,  you  ask  me  to  be  quiet !  I  have  slept  for 
the  first  time  since  that  fearful  night  in  Mittau,  and  it  is  very 
cruel  and  thoughtless  of  you  to  wake  me,  if  the  bailiffs  are 
not  here,  and  danger  does  not  menace  us." 

"  For  the  moment  we  are  safe,  but  I  have  something  im- 
portant to  tell  you." 

"Important?"  she  cried,  shrugging  her  shoulders.  "What 
is  of  consequence  to  me,  since  that  night?  Oh,  when  I  think 
of  it,  I  could  shriek  with  rage,  I  could  annihilate  myself  in 
despair !" 

"  It  was  indeed  a  dreadful  experience,  and  my  heart  quakes 
when  I  think  of  it,"  said  Cagliostro,  gloomily.  "The  secret 
assembly  consisted  of  the  highest  and  most  influential  of  the 
Courland  nobility.  Suspecting  no  wrong,  not  even  that  there 
could  be  traitors  among  the  believers  who  would  falsify  my 
spirit  apparatus,  I  gave  myself  up  to  conjuring  the  departed." 

"And  I  upon  my  fairy  throne,"  added  Lorenza,  "couched 
in  the  innocent  costume  of  the  celestial,  only  veiled  with  a 
silvery  cloud,  heard  a  sudden  shriek.  The  room  was  quite 
dark ;  I  saw,  upon  opening  my  eyes,  that  no  spirits  enlivened 
it." 

"Every  thing  failed — that  is  to  say,  my  assistants  let  it 
fail,"  said  the  count,  "and  the  assembly  began  to  murmur. 
Suddenly,  instead  of  the  departed  princes  and  heroes,  what 
fearful  forms  arose !" 

"Apes,  cats,  and  other  animals,"  cried  Lorenza,  with  a  loud 
laugh.  "  Oh,  what  an  irresistible  sight!  In  spite  of  my 
anger  I  had  to  laugh,  and  laugh  I  did  upon  the  fairy  throne, 
like—" 

"  Like  a  foolish  child  who  neither  knows  nor  understands 
danger,"  interrupted  the  count.  "  Your  laughing  soon  ceased 


FUTURE  PLANS.  331 

in  uhe  fearful  tumult  and  uproar.  They  shrieked  for  light, 
the  ladies  fled,  and  the  men  menaced  me  with  loud  curses, 
calling  me  a  charlatan,  and  threatening  my  life!" 

"Mine  also,"  cried  Lorenza;  "  oh,  what  insults  and  ill- 
treatment  I  was  forced  to  listen  to !  They  rushed  upon  me, 
shrieking  for  the  brilliants  and  money  which  they  had 
brought  me  as  an  offering.  How  they  scolded  and  called  me 
a  deceiver!  I  was  only  very  beautiful  and  coquettish,  and 
that  was  no  deception !  I  charmed  them  with  my  coyness, 
and  they  brought  me  the  most  costly  presents,  because  I  was 
a  virtuous  woman.  Now  they  reproached  me,  demanding  a 
return  of  them  all,  which  they  had  forced  upon  me  of  their 
own  free  will.  I  was  obliged  to  bear  it  silently  in  my  costume 
of  innocence,  and  as  goddess  I  could  not  defend  myself  and 
speak  with  human  beings — who  pushed  up  to  the  throne.  It 
was  a  very  ridiculous  position;  happily  I  did  not  quite  lose 
my  senses,  but  let  the  apparatus  play,  and  disappeared  into 
my  dressing-room  below,  which  fortunately  closed  above  me. 
I  dressed,  and  rushed  to  your  room  to  rescue  my  treasures." 

"  Even  in  this  extreme  danger  you  only  thought  of  your 
riches,  not  of  me,"  said  Cagliostro,  with  a  bitter  smile. 

"  Have  you  not  taught  me  yourself  that  money  was  the  only 
thing  worth  striving  to  possess?  Have  you  not  revealed  to 
me  in  wisdom  that  riches  alone  make  us  happy,  and  procure 
for  us  honor,  power,  love,  and  constancy?  Ah !  Joseph,  have 
you  not  made  me  the  miserable,  heartless  creature  that  I  am? 
Can  you  reproach  me  that  your  teaching  has  borne  such  good 
fruit?  I  am  happy  to  be  the  priestess  of  wealth,  and  grateful 
for  what  you  have  made  known  to  me." 

"It  is  true,"  sighed  Cagliostro,  "I  have  taught  you  the 
truth  of  things;  I  have  disclosed  to  you  the  world's  motive 
power.  Riches  are  indeed  the  god  upon  earth,  toward  whom 
all  are  pressing,  rushing  on.  We  must  all  follow  and  serve 
him  as  slaves,  or  be  crushed  under  the  wheels  of  his  triumphal 
car.  Men  talk  and  reason  about  the  storm  and  pressure 
which  is  spreading  through  the  world,  and  finally  will  reduce 


332  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

every  thing  to  storm  the  eternal  and  undying  bliss  of  wealth, 
and  press  on  for  gold." 

"  To  think  that  we  have  lost  every  thing!"  cried  Lorenza, 
springing  up  and  stamping  with  her  silken-shod  foot;  "every 
thing  is  lost  that  I  have  been  years  gaining,  by  hypocrisy,  de- 
ception, and  coquetry.  They  have  robbed  me !  The  shame- 
ful barbarians  have  seized  all  our  effects.  The  police 
surrounded  the  house,  guarding  every  entrance,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  escape  by  the  roof  into  the  house  of  one  of  the 
brothers,  leaving  all  our  treasures  behind." 

"  You  exaggerate,  Lorenza,  and  represent  it  worse  than  it 
is.  Look  around ;  you  are  surrounded  with  luxury  and  com- 
fort. Our  great  undertakings  in  Courland  and  St.  Peters- 
burg have  failed,  it  is  true,  and  the  Eussian  empress  has 
ordered  me  to  be  driven  away  and  pursued.  But  the  Invis- 
ible Fathers  have  not  forsaken  me,  as  they  know  that  I  am  a 
useful  tool  in  their  hands.  They  have  carefully  provided  me 
with  money,  passports,  and  instructions.  We  have  lost 
thousands,  but  we  will  regain  them,  for  the  future  is  ours. 
I  am  protected  by  the  order,  and  called  to  a  new  and  impor- 
tant mission  in  Paris,  to  strive  for  the  sacred  aim  of  the 
Church." 

"  And  have  they  no  mission  for  me?"  asked  Lorenza.  "  Is 
there  nothing  further  for  me  to  do  in  that  city  than  to  be  a 
beautiful  woman,  and  play  tricks  for  my  dear  husband?" 

"  Great  events  await  you  in  Paris,  which  we  will  aid  you  to 
prepare.  The  Invisible  Fathers  send  you  before  me  to  the 
Cardinal  de  Kohan.  You  are  going  to  Paris  in  the  service  of 
the  revolution  of  minds.  The  carriage  is  ordered,  and  you 
are  to  set  off  this  very  hour." 

"And  when  are  you  going,  Joseph?"  Lorenza  asked,  with 
a  touch  of  melancholy. 

"  I  shall  officially  depart  in  an  hour,  but  in  reality  at  the 
same  time  that  the  Baroness  von  Balmore  leaves  the  hotel  in 
her  travelling-carriage.  Near  the  waiting-maid  will  a  servant 
sit  upon  the  box.  I  shall  be  he." 


MIRACLES  AND  SPIRITS.  333 

"Officially  you  depart  in  an  hour;  what  does  that  mean?" 
Cagliostro  smiled.     "  It  is  a  long  story  and  a  comical  one. 
Come,  seat  yourself  by  me  upon  the  sofa;   repose  your  head 
upon  me,  and  listen  to  what  I  will  relate  to  you." 


CHAPTEE    XXXII. 

MIRACLES  AND   SPIRITS. 

LATE  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  a  travelling- carriage 
drove  up  before  the  hotel  "  King  of  Portugal,"  in  the  Burg- 
strasse,  with  two  large  black  trunks  strapped  upon  it  behind 
the  footman's  box,  and  the  postilion,  sitting  by  the  coach- 
man, playing  the  beautiful  and  popular  air,  "  Es  ritten  drei 
Renter  zum  Thore  Jiinaus  !  " 

Count  St.  Julien  descended  the  stairs,  followed  by  the  host, 
and  nodded  in  a  lofty  manner  to  the  two  waiters  and  hostler 
awaiting  him  at  the  entrance,  who  returned  it  by  a  profound 
bow,  at  the  same  time  not  failing  to  see  the  white  hand  ex- 
tended with  the  tririkgeld. 

The  host  himself  closed  the  carriage  door,  and  the  count 
departed  amid  the  merry  peals  of  the  postilion,  the  former 
gazing  after  him  with  the  satisfaction  of  one  who  has  made  a 
good  bargain.  The  servants  watched  it,  too,  until  it  had 
disappeared  around  the  corner  of  the  next  street. 

At  this  instant  the  quivering  tones  of  a  post-horn  were 
heard,  and  an  open  caliche  appeared  and  stopped  before  the 
hotel  with  two  large  black  travelling-trunks  upon  it,  and  the 
postilion  upon  the  box  blowing  the  popular  air,  "  Es  ritten 
drei  Renter  zum  Thore  hinaus!  " 

The  host  observed  the  empty  carriage  with  a  smile,  but  the 
servants  asked  themselves  astonished  what  it  meant,  and  as 
they  turned  and  saw  Count  St.  Julien  descending  the  stairs, 
they  were  startled.  He  offered  them  the  usual  trinkgeld, 
entered  the  carriage,  and  rolled  away  with  a  commanding  nod. 


334  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

The  Lost  seemed  speechless  with  astonishment,  and  stood  as 
if  rooted  to  the  spot.  The  servants  stared  after  the  carriage 
until  it  turned  the  corner;  when  just  then  a  post-horn  was 
heard  playing  the  agreeable  melody  of  " Drei  Renter,"  and  a 
travelling-carriage  with  two  large  black  trunks  drove  up  to 
the  door. 

The  servants  turned  pale,  looking  shyly  toward  the  stairs. 
Slowly  and  with  great  dignity  Count  St.  Julien  descended, 
greeting  them  with  a  gentlemanly  nod  as  he  passed,  and,  ex- 
tending his  whit  3  hand  with  a  trinkgeld,  mounted  his  car- 
riage, and  drove  away. 

The  host  stood  as  if  stunned,  outside  the  door,  looking 
right  and  left  with  unspeakable  terror.  The  servants  trem- 
blingly fixed  their  eyes  upon  the  stairs,  no  longer  possessing 
the  power  to  move,  but  heard  the  post-horn,  and  the  carriage 
which  drove  up  to  the  door  the  third  time.  Slowly  and 
proudly  Count  St.  Julien  advanced.  It  was  the  same  cold, 
grave  face,  with  the  thick  black  beard,  and  the  powdered 
peruke,  the  curls  of  which  overshadowed  the  brow  and  cheeks. 
He  wore  exactly  the  same  dark-brown  cloak  over  the  black 
velvet  dress.  The  white  hand,  with  broad  lace  wrist-ruffles, 
reached  them  also  a  trinkgeld. 

This  time  the  fellows  had  scarcely  self-possession  sufficient 
to  take  the  present,  for  every  thing  swam  before  their  eyes, 
and  their  hearts  one  moment  almost  ceased  to  beat,  and  then 
palpitated  with  the  feverish  rapidity  of  terror. 

"  I  would  run  away,"  murmured  the  chief  waiter,  as  Count 
St.  Julien  for  the  fourth  time  drove  away,  "  if  my  feet  were 
not  riveted  to  the  floor." 

"If  I  could  move  mine  I  would  have  gone  long  ago," 
groaned  the  second  waiter,  the  clear  drops  standing  upon  his 
forehead.  " It  is  witchcraft !  Oh,  Heaven!  they  are  coming 
again,  playing  the  ''Drei  Renter. ' ' 

The  count  descended  the  stairs  for  the  fifth  time,  whispered 
to  the  hostler,  who  was  quite  engrossed  counting  his  money, 
handed  the  trinkgeld  to  the  pale  fellows  by  the  door,  and 


MIRACLES  AND  SPIRITS.  335 

mounted  his  carriage,  driving  away  amid  the  merry  peals  of 
the  post-horu. 

"Julius,"  murmured  the  steward,  softly,  "give  my  hair  a 
good  pulling,  that  I  may  awake  from  this  horrible  dream. " 

"  I  cannot,"  he  whimpered,  "  my  hands  and  feet  are  lame. 
I  cannot  move." 

"  I  will,"  said  the  hostler,  courageously  stretching  forth  his 
hand,  and  pulling  it  so  vigorously  that  the  steward  was  fully 
convinced  of  the  reality  of  things. 

Again  the  post-horn  sounded  the  "  Drei  Renter;"  again 
the  carriage  stopped  before  the  door,  and  the  count  de- 
scended, giving  to  every  one  a  gift  like  the  "  Mddchen  aus  der 
Fremde,"  and  for  the  sixth  time  rolled  away. 

"  We  are  bewitched ;  it  is  a  ghost  from  the  infernal  regions!" 
groaned  the  steward. 

"  I  cannot  abide  it  any  longer — I  shall  die!"  said  the  seconl 
waiter. 

"I  do  not  mind  it,"  said  the  hostler,  as  he  jingled  the 
money;  "if  they  are  ghosts  from  hell,  the  eight  groschen  do 
not  come  from  there,  for  they  are  quite  cool.  See  how —  Ah, 
there  comes  the  count  again!" 

For  the  seventh  time  he  passed  down  the  stairway,  by  the 
servants,  who  were  no  longer  standing  but  kneeling,  which 
the  count  received  as  a  proof  of  their  profound  respect,  and 
slipped  the  money  into  their  hands. 

"  Praise  God,  all  good  spirits!"  murmured  the  head  waiter; 
but  neither  the  count  nor  the  money  seemed  to  be  moved  by 
the  pious  exhortation,  for  he  quietly  entered  his  carriage,  and 
the  eight  groschen  lay  in  the  servant's  hand,  at  which  the 
hostler  remarked  that  he  would  stand  there  all  night  if  the 
count  would  only  continually  pass  by  with  groschen.  It 
pleased  the  count  to  descend  the  stairs  yet  twice  more,  divide 
the  trinkgeld,  and  mount  his  carriage.  As  he  drove  away  the 
ninth  time,  it  appeared  as  if  the  Drei  Renter  were  deter- 
mined to  drive  out  of  the  gate  and  forsake  the  hotel  "  King 
of  Portugal."  The  host  waited  awhile,  and  talked  with  the 


336  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

neighbors,  who,  roused  by  the  continual  blast  of  the  post-horn, 
were  curious  to  know  how  it  happened  that  so  many  guests 
were  departing  by  extra  posts.  Whereupon  the  host,  in  a 
hollow,  sepulchral  voice,  his  eyes  glaring,  and  shrugging  his 
shoulders,  declared  that  there  had  been  but  one  gentleman  at 
the  hotel,  but  nine  times  he  had  seen  him  drive  away,  and 
the  devil  must  have  a  hand  in  the  matter! 

Shaking  his  head,  he  returned  to  the  hotel,  and  found  the 
servants  busily  counting  their .  money,  occasionally  casting 
covetous  looks  toward  the  stairs,  as  if  they  hoped  the  count 
would  again  descend. 

Exactly  as  Cagliostro  had  foretold,  Minister  Herzberg  did 
not  return  from  Sans-Souci  until  late  in  the  evening,  and 
then  found  Wilhelmine's  letter  in  his  cabinet. 

Immediately  the  police  were  instructed  to  arrest  Count  St. 
Julien  at  the  hotel  "  King  of  Portugal." 

An  hour  later  the  chief  of  the  police  came  to  say  that  the 
count  had  already  been  gone  two  hours.  He  repeated  the  ac- 
count of  the  host,  corroborated  by  the  servants,  of  nine  differ- 
ent counts  having  driven  away  from  the  hotel. 

Herzberg  smiled.  "  We  have  to  deal  with  a  very  clever 
scoundrel,"  said  he,  "and  it  is  no  other  than  the  so-called 
Count  Cagliostro,  who  was  lately  exposed  as  a  bold  trickster 
in  Mittau  and  St.  Petersburg,  and  about  whose  arrest  the 
Empress  Catharine  is  very  much  exercised.  It  would  be  very 
agreeable  to  the  king  to  show  this  little  attention  to  her  im- 
perial highness,  and  trap  the  adroit  pickpocket." 

"  We  might  succeed  in  catching  him  in  his  flight,"  remarked 
the  chief.  "For  the  last  six  months  the  king  has  given 
orders  that  every  passport  should  be  examined  at  the  gates, 
and  the  route  of  the  travellers  noted  down,  which  is  all  reg- 
istered and  sent  to  the  king.  It  would  be  very  easy  to  dis- 
cover by  which  gate  he  departed,  and  his  route,  and  then  have 
him  pursued." 

"  That  is  well  thought  of,  director ;  hasten  to  put  it  into 
execution,  and  inform  us  of  the  result." 


MIRACLES  AND  SPIRITS.  337 

Ho  returned  in  an  hour  to  the  minister's  cabinbt,  shaking 
his  head  gravely.  "  Your  excellency,  it  is  very  strange,  but 
he  is  a  wizard.  This  man  has  driven  out  of  the  nine  gates  at 
the  same  hour  and  minute." 

Herzberg  laughed.  "  This  is  one  of  his  tricks,  and  by  it  I 
recognize  the  great  necromancer." 

"  Your  excellency,  this  is  no  trickery,  but  witchery.  It  is 
impossible  for  any  one  man  to  drive  out  of  the  nine  gates  at 
the  same  hour,  in  the  same  carriage,  with  two  large  black 
trunks  and  a  postilion  blowing  the  same  melody,  and  provided 
with  a  correct  passport,  which  he  shows  and  is  recognized  as 
Count  St.  Julien,  who  is  going  to  Paris  by  Hamburg.  Here 
are  the  nine  registers  from  the  different  gates,  all  the  same, 
if  I  am  not  bewitched  and  do  not  read  straight." 

"This  trick  does  honor  to  the  count,"  said  Herzberg,  smil- 
ing. "  To-morrow  you  shall  accompany  me  to  Sans-Souci  and 
read  aloud  the  registers  to  the  king.  Do  you  think  it  will  be 
impossible  to  pursue  the  count  now?" 

"  I  should  be  very  happy  to  follow  your  excellency's  judg- 
ment in  this  matter,  and  arrest  the  rascal  in  any  way  that  you 
could  point  out,"  said  the  director. 

"  I  am  convinced  that  he  is  in  the  city ;  and  driving  out  of 
the  nine  gates  at  the  same  time  was  the  best  manner  to  escape 
being  discovered,"  said  Herzberg.  "He  is  concealed  in 
some  one  of  the  houses  of  the  brothers,  and  we  shall  be  obliged 
to  let  him  escape  this  time. " 

In  order  the  more  securely  to  carry  out  the  initiation  of 
Prince  Frederick  William,  in  company  with  Bischofswerder 
and  Wollner,  Cagliostro  had  arranged  his  pretended  depart- 
ure. For  a  long  time  the  prince  had  expressed  an  extreme 
desire  to  be  received  into  the  mysteries  of  the  miraculous  and 
holy  order,  of  which  he  had  heard  his  friends  speak  with  so 
much  reverence.  But  he  had  been  put  off  from  time  to  time 
with  regrets  and  shrugs  of  the  shoulders,  and  expressions  of 
the  impossibility  of  granting  the  request. 

"  The  spirits  do  not  always  appear  even  to  the  consecrated," 


338  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

said  Bischofswerder.  "  They  make  themselves  known  after 
many  fervent  prayers  and  implorings,  and  when  we  have 
withdrawn  from  every  one  who  could  entice  us  to  doubt  or 
disbelief.  I  fear  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  conjure  the 
spirits  of  the  departed,  so  long  as  your  highness  honors  a  cer- 
tain lady  with  your  particular  favor,  who  ridicules  the  sublime 
order  and  mingles  with  its  enemies.  How  can  they  appear  to 
those  who  have  just  been  in  the  company  of  a  friend  of  the 
Illuminati  and  unbelievers?" 

"  The  spirit-world  only  reveals  itself  to  the  virtuous  and 
pure,"  said  Wollner,  in  a  harsh,  dry  voice.  "Its  inhabitants 
cannot  approach  those  who  are  not  chaste  and  innocent,  for 
sin  and  vice  surround  them  with  a  thick  fog,  which  keeps 
them  at  a  distance  from  the  clear  atmosphere  of  the  sublime. 
If  you  would  call  up  the  spirits,  you  must  remove  this  woman 
who  entices  you  from  the  path  of  virtue,  and  renders  the 
sphere  impure  around  you." 

Despite  the  warnings  and  the  great  wish  the  prince  had  to 
be  received  into  the  spirit- world,  and  become  a  member  of  the 
highest  grade  of  the  Rosicrucians,  he  could  not  resolve  to  for- 
sake her  who  had  been  his  friend  for  ten  years,  and  who  had 
borne  shame  and  degradation  on  his  account,  refusing  eligible 
and  rich  men  rather  than  leave  him  and  become  a  legitimate 
wife.  Wilhelmine  was  the  beloved  of  his  youth,  the  mother 
of  his  two  dear  children,  and  she  alone  knew  how  to  drive 
away  the  ennui  which  pursued  the  prince,  with  her  amiable, 
subtle  wit.  Nay,  he  could  not  be  so  ungrateful,  so  heartless, 
as  to  reject  her  who  had  so  tenderly  loved  him  when  young 
and  beautiful,  now  that  the  first  bloom  of  youth  and  beauty 
had  faded ! 

Bischofswerder  and  Wollner  recognized  this  difficulty,  and 
applied  themselves  the  more  energetically  for  its  removal. 
They  supposed  that  the  unexpected  arrival  of  Cagliostro  would 
very  naturally  appear  to  the  prince  as  a  special  messenger, 
sent,  without  doubt,  from  the  fathers,  to  accomplish  his  con- 
version. They  announced  to  the  prince  that  the  Invisibles 


MIRACLES  AND  SPIRITS.  339 

had  taken  pity  upon  his  desire  for  knowledge,  and  had  con- 
sented to  permit  him  to  gaze  into  the  regions  of  the  blest, 
although  he  wandered  in  the  path  of  vice,  and  that  he  must 
hold  himself  in  readiness  to  accompany  the  messenger  when- 
ever he  should  be  sent  to  call  him. 

For  this  reason  the  crown  prince  had  written  to  Wilhel- 
mine  that  she  should  not  expect  him  until  the  following 
morning,  and  he  did  not  quit  his  room  the  entire  day,  with 
excited  expectation  awaiting  the  summons.  As  evening  set  in 
the  prince  was  cast  down,  and  quite  of  the  opinion  that  the 
Invisibles  did  not  deem  him  worthy  to  enter  their  pure  pres- 
ence, and  thought  that  Wilhelmine  must  be  the  hinderance. 
Whilst  he  was  reflecting  whether  to  sacrifice  his  beloved  to 
the  salvation  of  his  soul,  the  secret  door  gently  opened,  and 
two  men,  masked  and  wrapped  in  black  cloaks,  entered  and 
placed  themselves  near  the  door.  The  prince  did  not  remark 
their  entrance,  and  was  quite  frightened  as  he  chanced  to 
turn,  and  saw  these  two  immovable  figures. 

With  quivering  voice  he  demanded  their  mission. 

In  the  same  tone,  as  if  one  were  an  echo  of  the  other,  they 
answered,  "  We  desire  nothing,  but  you  demand  knowledge  of 
the  spirit-world,  and  would  have  its  mysteries  revealed  to  you, 
which  the  Invisibles  will  now  grant  you.  Follow  us,  there- 
fore!" They  reopened  the  secret  door;  one  of  the  masked 
preceded  the  prince,  and  the  other  followed  him. 

The  prince  shuddered  at  the  thought  that  he  might  be 
rushing  into  some  unknown  danger,  and  intrusting  himself  to 
those  who  would  misuse  his  confidence.  He  demanded  to  see 
their  faces,  declaring  himself  prepared  to  follow,  when  ac- 
quainted with  his  guides. 

"  It  would  then  be  better  to  remain,"  replied  one  of  the 
masked.  "  He  who  lacks  confidence  is  not  worthy  of  it,  and 
he  who  trusts  only  the  visibles,  the  Invisibles  flee." 

The  prince  recognized  the  voice  of  Bischofswerder,  and 
smiled,  but  he  knew  not  that  it  was  permitted  him  to  hear 
it  to  inspire  him  with  courage. 


340  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

*  Well,  so  let  it  be ;  the  fathers  shall  see  that  I  am  a  be- 
liever," cried  the  prince. 

Immediately  one  of  the  brothers  put  his  own  cloak,  three- 
cornered  hat,  and  mask  upon  his  highness,  still  remaining 
cloaked  and  masked  himself,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  the 
passive  prince.  "Come,  now,  the  Invisibles  await  you,"  said 
one  of  the  masked.  The  prince  stepped  courageously  into 
the  little  corridor  which  led  to  the  secret  stairway,  one  brother 
preceding  him,  causing  a  soft  light  to  illumine  their  path, 
the  other  following  him. 

In  silence  they  reached  the  side-door  of  the  palace,  where 
a  close  carriage  awaited  them. 

"Where  are  you  taking  me?"  asked  Frederick  William,  as 
he  entered,  followed  by  the  two  brothers. 

"To  the  Invisibles,"  answered  a  strange  voice. 

Again  the  prince  essayed  to  begin  a  conversation,  his  only 
response  being,  "  Purify  your  heart  and  pray."  Silently  .they 
galloped  over  paved  and  unpaved  streets,  the  prince  heartily 
repenting  having  been  drawn  into  this  adventure.  He 
thought  of  his  charming  and  beloved  Wlihelmine,  and  half 
determined  to  give  the  command  to  drive  to  Charlottenburg. 
The  fact  of  Bischofswerder  being  with  him,  and  fearful  of 
appearing  weak  and  wanting  in  courage  in  the  eyes  of  his 
friend  and  favorite,  prevented  him. 

After  several  hours'  drive,  they  stopped  at  the  marble  pal- 
ace of  Potsdam,  near  the  one  which  the  prince  was  accus- 
tomed to  occupy.  His  highness  looked  cautiously  around, 
and  breathed  more  freely,  as  he  felt  that  he  was  now  surely 
among  friends. 

The  white  palace  stood  silent  and  deserted  in  the  darkness, 
this  palace  at  Potsdam  being  only  used  for  the  guests  of  the 
king.  The  carriage  stopped  at  the  side-door,  where  there 
was  no  sentinel,  and  they  alighted,  entering  the  palace,  wind- 
ing along  the  corridors  in  the  same  order  as  before,  guided  by 
the  glimmering  light  of  the  one  preceding.  Solemn  music, 
strange  ringing  sounds,  fell  upon  the  ear  as  they  advanced. 


MIRACLES  AND  SPIRITS.  341 

Sometimes  they  were  sharp  and  cutting  as  glass,  then  threaten- 
ing and  penetrating  as  the  wind,  shrieking  and  moaning, 
causing  one  to  be  very  nervous  if  not  terrified. 

The  farther  they  proceeded  the  louder  grew  the  sounds,  and 
at  intervals  groans,  moans  and  wailings  were  heard,  as  of 
those  waiting  and  imploring  for  mercy. 

One  of  the  brothers  now  opened  a  door,  and  then  placing 
themselves  upon  each  side,  the  unknown  voice  announced  to 
the  prince  that  they  had  arrived  at  the  long-sought -for  goal. 

"What  have  we  come  here  for?"  asked  the  prince. 

"  To  behold  that  which  you  have  many  times  petitioned  to 
be  permitted  to  see,"  replied  Bischofswerder,  gently  encourag- 
ing and  inspiring  Frederick  William.  "  The  Invisibles  have 
at  last  yielded  to  your  wishes,  and  the  spirits  which  you  sum- 
mon will  appear.  If  your  courage  fails  you,  and  you  dread 
the  presence  of  the  departed,  command  to  be  reconducted  to 
your  palace,  and  we  will  obey;  but  renounce  forever  the 
sublime  happiness  of  beholding  the  Invisibles  and  of  holding 
communion  with  the  spirit- world!" 

"I  fear  not,  but  wish  to  be  in  the  company  of  the  spirits," 
answered  the  prince,  proudly. 

"Kneel,"  they  commanded,  permitting  him  to  enter,  "and 
thrice  summon  in  a  loud  voice  the  names  of  three  departed, 
who  will  answer  your  questions,  Beware  of  approaching 
them,  for  their  glance  is  death  and  their  breath  destruction ! 
Therefore  remain  kneeling,  as  it  becomes  a  mortal  in  the 
presence  of  an  immortal.  Hope  and  pray,  brother!" 

As  the  door  closed  upon  the  prince,  and  he  found  himself 
in  such  impenetrable  darkness,  he  sank  upon  his  knees,  for 
he  dared  not  advance,  and  retreat  was  impossible,  in  spite  of 
heart-quakings. 

The  shrill,  penetrating  music  ceased,  and  a  voice  from  a 
distance  called :  "  Summon  thrice  those  that  thou  desirest  to 
see." 

"  Marcus  Aurelins,  Leibnitz,  and  the  distinguished  elector," 
called  the  prince  in  a  loud  voice. 


342  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"Who  summoned  me?"  was  responded  in  hollow,  sepul- 
chral tones,  and  directly  over  the  crown  prince  a  blue,  vapor- 
ous light  was  visible — at  first  only  a  cloud,  then  by  degrees 
increasing  and  condensing  itself  into  a  human  shape,  until  it 
took  the  form  of  a  Koman  warrior  of  the  olden  time ;  no 
other  than  Marcus  Aurelius,  in  helmet  and  coat-of-mail,  with 
a  pale,  earth-colored  face  and  glaring  eyes. 

"Who  summoned  me?"  repeated  the  figure.  The  prince's 
lips  refused  to  respond,  and  shuddering  he  gazed  upon  tin 
corpse-like  face,  so  exact  in  feature  to  the  old  Roman  emperor. 

"You  answer  me  not!"  thundered  the  voice,  "but  I  will 
tell  you  who  you  are — one  lost  in  sin  and  an  apostate ! — the 
crown  prince  of  Prussia,  a  future  king,  who  will  be  called  to 
govern  a  people,  and  knows  not  self-government!  Turn 
from  the  path  of  vice  while  it  is  yet  time;  rise  from  the  dust, 
that  the  ashes  of  retribution  do  not  bury  you  in  a  living 
tomb,  like  the  sinful  Pompeians.  No  monument  marks  the 
place  of  the  sinful;  he  sinks  into  the  night  of  oblivion, -or  he 
is  cursed  by  succeeding  generations.  Therefore  turn  from  the 
errors  of  sin.  Rise  to  virtue,  that  the  blessed  may  approach 
you.  I  shudder  in  your  presence.  Woe  to  you!  woe!  woe!' 

The  cloud-portrait  vanished,  and  darkness  reigned  for  a 
moment.  The  prince  cried  in  anguish :  "  I  will  hear  no 
more;  this  air  oppresses  me — open  the  door — I  renounce 
communion  with  the  spirits;  I  will  go  out!" 

The  light  reappeared  in  the  dark  room  and  another  form 
hovered  over  the  prince — of  grave,  obscure  face,  with  a  grea"; 
peruke,  staring  at  him.  He  recognized  the  distinguished 
philosopher  Leibnitz,  whom  he  had  desired  to  see,  but  who 
now  filled  him  with  unspeakable  terror.  Like  the  former 
spirit,  he  also,  when  unanswered,  reproached  the  erring 
prince,  conjuring  him  to  return  to  virtue. 

As  the  menacing' ghost  disappeared,  the  prince  felt  for  the 
door,  and  shook  it  with  the  power  which  terror  lends,  crying, 
"  Open,  open!"  It  opened  not,  and  the  third  summoned,  the 
great  elector,  Frederick  William,  appeared,  with  high,  up- 


MIRACLES  AND  SPIRITS.  343 

lifted  arm,  glittering  eyes,  advancing  with  angry  mien,  shak- 
ing his  lion's  mane  against  the  erring  son  of  his  house, 
whom  he  menaced  with  curses  and  revenge,  if  he  did  not  re- 
nounce the  courtesan  who  had  seduced  him  to  vice  and  un- 
chastity. 

"  I  Avill  become  better,"  groaned  the  prince.  "I  will  per- 
form the  wish  of  the  spirits.  Only  have  mercy  on  me — free 
me.  Help !  help !  Open  the  door,  Bischofswerder,  I  will  do 
better.  Open  the  door!" 

This  time  it  really  opened,  and  a  long  train  of  dark,  masked 
forms  entered  the  dusky  room  surrounding  the  prince,  wring- 
ing their  hands,  imploring  him  to  turn  from  sin,  and  forsake 
the  unholy  woman. 

They  whimpered,  they  implored,  sinking  upon  their  knees, 
beating  their  clinched  hands,  and  weeping :  "  Turn,  beloved 
elect !  Renounce  Wilhelmine  Enke ;  renounce  vice !  Eepulse 
the  seductress,  and  turn  your  countenance  to  Virtue  which 
you  have  seen  in  all  her  beauty!" 

"  I  will  perform  that  which  you  demand,"  wept  the  prince, 
as  the  deathly  terror  and  nervous  excitement  made  him 
yielding. 

"  Swear!"  cried  the  chorus  of  masks. 

"  I  swear  that  Wilhelmine  Enke  shall  no  longer  be  my 
mistress.  I  swear  by  all  that  is  holy  that  I  will  renounce 
her!  I—" 

Voice  failed  him ;  there  was  a  ringing  and  buzzing  in  his 
ears;  every  thing  swam  before  his  eyes,  and  he  sank  faint- 
ing. The  prince  awoke  after  long  unconsciousness,  and 
found  himself  upon  his  bed  in  the  new  palace  at  Potsdam, 
Bischofswerder  at  his  side,  watching  him  with  the  tenderest 
sympathy.  He  bent  over  him  and  pressed  his  hand  to  his 
lips  with  a  cry  of  delight.  "  Heaven  be  praised ;  my  dear 
prince,  you  have  awaked  to  commence  a  new  life !  You  now 
belong  to  the  virtuous  and  honorable,  whom  the  Invisible 
Fathers  bless!" 

"Is  it  true,  Bischofswerder,"  said   the   prince,  languidly, 


344  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  that  I  have  sworn  to  renounce  Wilhelmine  Enke,  and  never 
to  love  her  more?" 

"  You  have  sworn  it  by  all  that  is  holy,  and  all  in  heaven 
and  on  earth  have  heard  your  oath,  and  there  is  joy  thereat." 

The  prince  turned  his  head,  that  Bischofswerder  might  not 
see  the  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks. 


CHAPTEE    XXXIII. 

THE   RETURN   HOME. 

THE  beautiful  house  which  Herr  Ebenstreit  von  Leuthen 
possessed  upon  the  finest  street  in  Berlin,  "  Unten  den  Lin- 
den," had  been  newly  arranged  and  splendidly  ornamented 
since  his  marriage  and  elevation  to  a  title,  and  now  awaited 
his  arrival.  For  many  weeks  mechanics  and  artists  had  been 
busily  employed ;  and  the  good  housekeeper,  old  Trude,  saw 
with  bewildering  astonishment  the  daily  increasing  splendor 
of  gilded  furniture,  costly  mirrors  and  chandeliers,  soft  car- 
pets, tapestries,  and  gold-embroidered  curtains,  exquisite 
paintings  and  statuary,  which  the  possessor  had  forwarded 
from  Italy,  and  many  other  objects  of  art  standing  upon  gilt 
and  marble  tables. 

Every  thing  was  completed.  The  bustle  of  the  busy  work- 
men had  ceased,  and  Trude  slowly  wandered  through  the 
solitary  rooms,  examining  every  article.  Her  face  bespoke 
dissatisfaction,  and  a  smile  of  contempt  was  visible  there. 

"  Miserable  trash,  for  which  they  have  sold  my  poor  child!" 
murmured  the  old  woman.  "  For  these  worthless,  glittering 
toys  have  they  ruined  the  happiness  of  the  dear  innocent 
heart,  and  on  them  the  guilt  will  fall  if  her  soul  is  lost !  I 
remark  how  she  is  changed  in  her  letters  since  her  shameful, 
mercenary  marriage.  She  writes  of  nothing  but  the  arrange- 
ment of  her  house,  and  speaks  as  if  the  beauty  and  costliness 
of  things  were  only  to  be  thought  of,  and  there  is  not  even  a 


THE  RETURN  HOME,  345 

confidential,  heart-felt  word  for  her  old  Trade.  It  would 
seem  as  if  she  had  forgotten  all  former  objects  of  interest. 
Oh,  what  trouble  and  sorrows  the  rich  have !  That  good-for- 
nothing  money  hardens  their  hearts  and  makes  them  evil  and 
selfish." 

The  loud  ringing  of  a  bell  sounded  through  the  solitary 
drawing-rooms. 

"That  is,  undoubtedly,  the  general's  wife,"  said  Trude, 
shaking  her  head.  "  She  rings  as  if  she  would  announce  the 
king,  with  her  nose  turned  up  so  high,  or  as  if  she  were  the 
money-sacks  of  her  son-in-law!" 

Trude  was  right;  her  shrill  voice  was  heard  ordering  the 
steward,  who  had  but  just  arrived.  "  It  is  abominable,  it  is 
unheard  of!"  she  cried,  as  with  a  heavy  push  she  burst  open 
the  door ;  "  this  man  presumes  to  contradict  me,  and — ah, 
there  you  are,  Trude!" 

"  Here  I  am,"  she  answered;  "  were  you  looking  for  me?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  would  ask  you  if  my  orders  are  not  the  same 
as  if  given  by  Herr  Ebenstreit  von  Leuthen  or  his  wife,  or 
have  you  instructed  the  new  steward  otherwise,  which,  it  is 
laughable  to  say,  you  have  engaged?" 

"  No,  I  have  not  instructed  him  thus.  Dear  Marie  has  not 
ordered  it  in  her  letter." 

"  Dear  Marie,"  repeated  Frau  von  Werrig.  "  How  can  you 
permit  yourself  to  speak  so  intimately  of  the  rich  Baroness 
von  Ebenstreit?" 

"  Very  true,  it  is  not  right,"  sighed  Trude ;  "  I  beg  pardon. " 

"  I  came  here  to  see  if  every  thing  was  in  readiness,  and 
ordered  the  steward  to  ornament  the  doors  and  corridors  with 
garlands  of  flowers;  he  has  had  the  boldness  to  tell  me  he 
dares  not  do  it!" 

"  He  is  right,  Frau  von  Leuthen.  Baroness  Ebenstreit  von 
Leuthen  (have  I  got  the  title  right?)  wrote  and  expressly  for- 
bade any  festivity  to  greet  her  arrival.  Here  is  the  letter — I 
carry  it  around  with  me;  I  will  read  it  to  you:  'I  expressly 

forbid  any  manifestation  whatever  to  be  made  at  our  return, 
23 


34C  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

whether  of  garlands  or  flowers,  as  they  are  only  hypocrisy  ard 
falsehood.  I  wish  no  one  there  to  receive  me — remember, 
Trude,  no  one!  Inform  my  family  that,  as  soon  as  I  have 
recovered  from  the  fatigue  of  the  journey,  I  will  make  them 
the  visit  of  duty  with  the  baron. ' ' 

"  What  cold,  heartless  words  are  these !  One  could  hardly 
believe  that  a  daughter  was  writing  of  her  parents." 

"  On  her  wedding-day  she  perhaps  forgot  that  she  had  any," 
said  Trude,  shrugging  her  shoulders,  "  and  she  should  not  be 
at  once  reminded  of  that  trying  occasion  on  her  return.  I 
expect  her  every  moment,  as  the  courier  has  already  arrived 
an  hour  ago,  and  it  would  be  better — " 

"You  cannot  be  so  impudent  as  to  tell  me  to  leave?  In- 
deed, I  will  not  be  prevented  from  waiting  to  receive  my  only 
child  that  I  have  not  seen  for  three  years.  One  can  well  be- 
lieve that  a  mother  would  be  impatient  to  embrace  her  dear 
daughter!  I  have  no  other  happiness  but  my  beloved  child, 
and  I  long,  unspeakably,  to  press  her  to  my  heart  and  tell  her 
my  sorrow." 

"Sorrow!  is  it  possible  that  Frau  von  Werrig  has  any 
griefs?  I  supposed  there  was  nothing  in  the  world  troubled 
her." 

"  And  yet  I  am  very  much  tormented.  I  can  well  tell  you, 
Trude,  as  you  are  familiar  with  our  circumstances,"  sighed 
the  countess.  "  You  know  the  general  is  tolerably  well ;  the 
journeys  to  "Wiesbaden  and  Teplitz  have  cured  him  of  the  gout 
unfortunately,  so  that  he  can  go  about." 

"  Are  you  sorry  for  that,  Frau  von  Werrig?" 

"  Certainly  I  am,  Trude,  as  he  has  returned  to  his  former 
habits,  frequenting  the  society  of  drinking-houses  and  gam- 
blers. Imagine  the  general  played  yesterday,  lost  all  his 
ready  money,  and  that  was  not  enough,  but  signed  away  the 
year's  pension  from  Herr  von  Ebenstreit,  during  which  time 
we  have  nothing  but  the  miserable  army  annuity  to  live 
upon." 

"  Then  your  income  will  be  less  to  live  upon  than  formerly, 


THE  RETURN  HOME.  347 

for  dear  Marie  earned  something  with  her  flowers  and  lessons 
which  she  gave  to  you,  although  she  was  never  thanked  for 
it.  She  was  then  my  dear  good  Marie,  so  industrious  and 
patient,  and  worked  untiringly  for  her  parents!  Then  she 
forgot  them  not,  and  toiled  early  and  late,  and,  oh,  it  breaks 
my  heart  to  think  of  it,  and  I  must  cry  in  your  presence!" 

She  raised  the  corner  of  her  dark-blue  apron  and  dried  her 
eyes,  holding  it  there  as  she  continued  to  weep. 

"What  an  ugly  apron!"  cried  the  countess,  "and  how 
meanly  you  are  dressed  altogether !  Is  that  the  way  you  in- 
tend to  go  looking  as  the  housekeeper  of  a  rich  and  genteel 
family?  Go,  Trude,  quickly,  and  put  something  better  on, 
that  you  may  receive  your  master  and  mistress  in  a  suitable 
dress." 

"  I  shall  remain  as  I  am,  for  I  am  very  properly  dressed. 
It  may  not  be  suitable  for  a  housekeeper,  but  it  becomes  old 
Trude,  and  it  is  my  Sunday  frock,  which  I  always  wore  when 
I  was  maid-of -all -work  to  you.  You  may  not  remember  it, 
but  dear  Marie  (I  should  say  Baroness  von  Ebenstreit)  will, 
perhaps,  and  it  may  recall  her  little  room  in  the  garret,  and 
then — " 

"  And  then  she  will  at  last  think,  Trude,  how  we  took  care 
of  her,  and  how  thankful  she  ought  to  be  to  her  parents  that 
they  married  her  to  a  rich  man.  If  Marie  sees  it  at  last — " 

"You  forget  with  whom  you  speak,  Frau  von  Werrig," 
Trude  interrupted  her,  scornfully,  "  and  that  it  does  not  be- 
come you  to  speak  of  Marie  to  old  Trude,  but  you  should 
remember  her  title." 

"Well,  then,  when  Baroness  von  Ebenstreit  enters  this 
costly  house,  she  must  understand  that  her  mother  was  mind- 
ful of  her  best  interests,  and  that  she  owes  all  this  to  her;  and 
you,  Trude,  must  remind  her  of  it,  and  tell  her  about  my 
dreadful  trial  with  her  father,  and  that  it  is  my  daughter's 
duty  to  release  me  from  it,  and  beg  her  husband  not  to  deduct 
the  gambling-debt  from  the  pension,  but  pay  it  this  once. 
For  it  would  be  a  dreadful  injustice  to  make  me  suffer  for 


348  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

the  general's  rage  for  play,  and  show  but  little  gratitude  for 
the  riches  which  I  brought  her.  You  will  tell  my  daughter 
all  this,  Trude,  and — " 

"I  will  not  tell  her  any  thing  at  all,  Frau  von  Werrig,"  in- 
terrupted Trude,  warmly.  "  May  my  good  genius  keep  me 
from  that,  and  burdening  my  conscience  with  such  false- 
hoods.— Hark!  A  carriage  is  coming,  and  a  post-horn 
sounded.  They  have  arrived!" 

Old  Trude  hurried  out  just  as  they  drove  up  to  the  door. 
The  steward  and  two  servants  in  livery  rushed  down  the  steps 
to  assist  them  to  alight,  and  Trude  also  to  greet  her  favorite, 
who  was  now  so  pale,  grave,  and  chilling  in  her  appearance. 

The  large  eyes  of  the  lady  rested  with  cold  indifference 
upon  the  old  woman,  whose  eyes  were  turned  to  her  with  the 
tenderest  expression.  "I  thank  you,"  she  said,  coldly. 
"Husband!  I  beg  you  to  give  me  your  arm."  Proudly  she 
passed  the  statuary,  and  over  the  soft  carpets  without  com- 
ment, or  even  a  word  for  old  Trude. 

The  steward  and  housekeeper  followed  the  silent  couple. 

"  Shall  I  take  you  to  your  room  first?"  asked  Eberistreit, 
"  or  will  you  do  me  the  pleasure  to  look  at  the  newly-arranged 
drawing-rooms?" 

"Certainly,"  she  replied,  with  indifference.  "We  will 
first  look  at  the  drawing-rooms,  as  we  shall  probably  receive 
much  company  this  winter,  and  they  are  of  the  first  impor- 
tance. You  know  that  I  dislike  solitude." 

"Indeed,  I  recall  that  we  are  very  seldom  alone!"  sighed 
her  husband. 

"It  would  be  fearful  if  we  were,"  replied  his  wife,  with 
marked  indifference. 

The  steward  just  now  opened  the  little  door  of  the  ante- 
room, sparkling  with  chandeliers  and  mirrors.  "  Ah !  this  is 
really  beautiful,  and  well  chosen,"  cried  Ebenstreit,  looking 
about  with  an  air  of  great  pride  and  satisfaction.  "  Tell  me, 
Marie,  is  it  not  worthy  of  you?" 

Glancing  coldly  around,  she  replied:  "It  does  not  please 


THE  RETURN  HOME.  349 

me  at  all.  The  furniture  is  very  costly,  and  reminds  one  of 
the  parvenu.  Every  thing  recalls  the  riches  of  the  newly- 
titled  banker." 

Her  husband's  brow  contracted,  but  he  did  not  trust  him- 
self to  contest  his  dissatisfaction  with  his  cold,  proud  wife, 
but  sought  another  ven  for  it. 

"  You  are  very  unkind,  Marie.  Have  the  goodness  to  tell 
me  how  you,  with  these  severe  ideas,  can  suffer  that  Trude 
for  a  moment  should  appear  before  us  in  this  poor-looking 
dress,  which,  indeed,  does  not  recall  any  wealth!" 

Frau  von  Ebenstreit's  eyes  glanced  quickly  over  the  old 
woman,  who,  she  said,  was  the  only  object  which  did  not 
bespeak  the  gaudiness  of  newly-acquired  wealth,  but  she  ap- 
peared as  the  respectable  servant  of  an  old  and  noble  family 
in  fitting  dress.  "  Eemain  as  you  are,  Trude,  and  do  not  let 
yourself  be  misled  by  our  follies!  I — but  what  is  that  I 
see?"  she  cried  as  the  steward  opened  the  next  door  at  the 
silent  nod  of  her  husband. 

"Oh,  my  beloved  children,  there  you  are  at  last;  after 
three  years'  absence  I  have  the  happiness  to  embrace  you,  my 
only  daughter,"  cried  Frau  von  Werrig,  as  she  approached 
them  with  outstretched  arms  and  an  affectionate  smile,  essay- 
ing to  throw  her  arms  around  Marie's  neck,  who  waved  her 
back. 

"  My  child,  my  child,"  whimpered  the  mother,  "is  it  possi- 
ble that  my  daughter  can  receive  me  thus  after  so  long  a 
separation?" 

Turning  to  Trude,  Marie  asked  her,  with  a  reproving  look 
and  tone,  if  she  had  received  her  letter,  or  if  she  had  forgot- 
ten her  express  commands  that  no  one  but  the  servants  should 
be  in  the  house  to  receive  them. 

"  I  did  not  forget  it,  my  lady,  and  I  have  read  the  order? 
to  Frau  von  Werrig,  but  she — " 

"  Knew  that  this  wish  had  no  reference  to  her,  as  she  is  her 
mother. — Tell  me,  my  beloved  son,  is  it  not  very  natural  and 
fitting  that  I  should  be  here  to  receive  you?" 


350  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE   NEW  ERA. 

"  I  find  it  a  matter  of  course,"  answered  Von  Ebenstreit,  to 
whom  it  appeared  a  relief  to  find  an  ally  in  the  mother  against 
his  proud  and  beautiful  wife.  "  I  rejoice  to  see  our  dear 
mother  here,  and  I  beg  Marie  will  join  me." 

Marie  cast  an  angry  glance  toward  her  husband,  which  so 
confused  and  perplexed  him,  that  he  looked  down.  Then 
advancing  toward  the  drawing-room,  with  her  usual  cold  de- 
meanor, without  further  comment  upon  the  ostentatious  fur- 
niture, she  commanded  her  husband  to  follow,  who  obeyed, 
giving  his  arm  to  his  mother-in-law. 

"Oh,  this  is  glorious!"  he  cried,  smiling.  "What  splen- 
dor, what  luxury!  Tell  me,  my  dear  mother,  is  not  this 
beautiful  reception-room  very  aristocratically  and  appropri- 
ately fitted  up?" 

"  I  should  think  a  princess  or  a  queen  might  be  satisfied 
with  it,"  she  cried,  with  enthusiasm.  "Even  in  royal  pal- 
aces there  is  nothing  of  the  kind  to  compare  to  this  gold- 
embroidered  tapestry." 

"Baron,"  said  Marie,  commandingly,  "have  the  kindness 
to  dismiss  the  steward.  I  wish  to  speak  with  you  and  Frau 
von  Werrig." 

The  steward  slipped  out  without  waiting  to  be  sent,  and 
Trude  stood  near  the  door,  turning  to  the  young  baroness, 
as  if  to  ask  if  she  might  remain. 

"Did  you  not  hear,  Trude?"  cried  the  mother,  impatiently. 
"Tell  her  to  go!" 

"Remain,  Trude,"  said  Marie,  quietly.  "You  are  familiar 
•with  the  past.  I  have  nothing  to  deny  to  you ;  shut  the  door 
and  stay  here. — And  now,"  she  continued,  as  her  voice  lost 
its  gentleness,  when  she  addressed  her  mother,  "  if  it  is  agree- 
able to  you,  I  should  like  to  have  an  understanding  with 
you !" 

"But,  my  child,"  sighed  the  mother,  "how  strangely 
altered  you  are !  You  address  me,  your  mother,  as  Frau  von 
Werrig,  and  you  speak  to  Ebenstreit  in  a  very  formal  manner, 
who  has  been  your  dear,  faithful  husband  for  three  years. — 


THE  RETURN  HOME.  351 

Oh,  my  darling  son,  what  does  this  ceremonious  manner 
mean?" 

"  The  very  first  hour,  after  our  marriage,  that  we  were 
alone,  my  dear  Marie  severely  reproved  me  for  having  ad- 
dressed her  in  an  intimate,  affectionate  manner,  like  the 
common  class,  as  she  called  it,  and  I  have  never  done  so 
since." 

"You  must  be  convinced  that  I  am  right,"  said  Marie, 
calmly,  "  and  that  it  does  not  become  two  beings,  who  neither 
love  nor  esteem  each  other,  and  who  live  in  the  most  cere- 
monious manner,  to  address  one  another  with  endearing 
epithets.  At  any  rate  we  are  not  accountable  to  any  one,  and 
Frau  von  Leuthen  must  know  the  relations  we  bear  to  each 
other  in  the  so-called  marriage,  as  it  is  her  arrangement  for 
the  most  part." 

"And  I  pride  myself  upon  it,"  she  cried,  with  animation. 
"  I  have  brought  about  this  marriage,  which  is  good  fortune 
to  us,  and  I  hope  my  daughter  will  prove  her  gratitude,  and 
my  son  will  show  me  the  affection  he  has  so  often  sworn  to  me." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  my  husband  may  have  sworn  to  you, 
but  permit  me  to  say,  I  do  not  understand  whom  you,  Frau 
von  Werrig,  address  as  daughter  here;  if  you  accidentally 
refer  to  me,  you  are  in  error ;  I  have  never  possessed  a  mother 
to  love  me,  although  formerly,  during  long  years  I  endeavored 
with  tender  assiduity  to  win  a  parent's  heart.  That  is  long 
past,  however.  The  very  day  that  I  married  Herr  von  Eben- 
streit  I  renounced  all  family  ties,  and  resolved  to  be  self- 
reliant.  My  husband  will  witness  that  he  has  never  known 
me  to  yield,  and  that  I  have  always  been  firm  and  resolute  in 
my  decision." 

"No  one  would  doubt  it,"  replied  Ebenstreit,  timidly. 
"We  had  a  very  strange  marriage,  which  scarce  deserves  the 
name.  We  resemble  more  two  companions  who  have  joined 
in  business,  the  one  side  reluctantly,  and  the  other  joyfully. 
I  long  for  a  happy  married  life,  which  has  been  quite  impos- 
sible thus  far." 


352  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  And  will  be  to  the  end,  which  you  will  yet  learn ;  and 
Fran  von  Werrig  should  understand  it,  as  she  brought  about 
the  union,  and  should  not  be  in  doubt  as  to  the  conclusion." 

"  I  acknowledge  that  I  am  almost  speechless  and  quite  par- 
alyzed with  that  which  I  see  and  hear.  I  should  doubt  that 
this  cold,  proud  woman  before  me  were  my  daughter,  if  it 
were  not  for  the  name  she  bears,  and  her  features." 

"  That  which  you  and  my  husband  have  caused  me  to  be- 
come. He  knew  that  I  neither  loved  nor  esteemed  him,  and 
that  a  union  with  him  seemed  so  unendurable  that  I  would 
have  sought  refuge  in  death,  if  I  had  not  vowed  to  support 
life  to  attain  the  aim  which  I  imposed  upon  myself.  That  is 
all  past;  it  is  the  future  which  we  must  arrange.  I  am  glad 
that  you  are  here,  Frau  von  Werrig,  that  we  may  understand 
each  other  once  for  all;  but  you  came  against  my  wishes." 

"  You  must  excuse  it,  dear  Marie.  It  was  the  longing  of  a 
mother's  heart  which  led  me  hither;  the  love — " 

A  cold,  contemptuous  glance  of  the  large  eyes  caused  the 
mother  to  cease,  and  quail  before  her  daughter. 

After  a  short  pause  Marie  continued :  "  I  wish  to  exercise 
alone  and  unhindered  the  executive  rights  of  a  lady  in  her 
own  house.  Do  you  acknowledge  the  justice  of  this,  my 
husband?" 

"  Perfectly  and  unconditionally,  dear  Marie.  You  know 
that  I  have  no  other  will  but  yours,  which  is  my  highest  hap- 
piness to  submit  myself  to  in  all  things,  always  hoping  to  gain 
your  love  and  win  your  heart;  that — " 

"That  this  woman  has  changed  to  stone,"  said  Marie, 
coldly,  pointing  to  her  mother.  "  As  you  then  recognize  me 
as  the  mistress  of  this  house,  I  shall  avail  myself  of  my  just 
right,  and  no  one  can  prevent  me,  for  I  stand  alone,  absolved 
from  all  family  ties.  By  my  birth  and  your  riches,  I  shall 
occupy  the  position  of  a  woman  of  the  world,  and  as  such  I 
shall  live." 

"I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,  Marie,"  cried  her  husband. 
"  For  this  reason  I  have  had  the  drawing-rooms  furnished  in 


THE   RETURN  HOME.  353 

the  most  costly  manner,  and  I  shall  be  proud  to  receive  the 
aristocratic  society  who  will  come  to  render  homage  to  my 
wife,  as  they  have  done  everywhere  in  Paris,  London,  Rome, 
Madrid,  and  St.  Petersburg.  We  have  frequented  the  high- 
est circle  in  all  these  cities,  and  they  have  crowded  our  draw- 
ing-rooms, charmed  with  the  beauty,  distinguished  manners, 
and  tone  of  the  world,  of  your  daughter." 

"  I  beg  of  you  to  make  but  one  subject  the  sole  object  of 
our  conversation,"  said  Marie,  harshly.  "I  have  said  that  I 
will  avail  myself  of  the  privilege,  as  mistress  of  this  house,  of 
receiving  no  one  whom  I  do  not  wish  to  see,  and  no  one  can 
enter  without  my  consent.  Is  it  clearly  understood,  husband?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  somewhat  agitated;  "it  is  the  right 
of  every  housekeeper — I  understand  you." 

"  It  is  also  clear  to  me,"  cried  Frau  von  Werrig,  with  diffi- 
culty suppressing  her  wrath.  "  But  I  will  await  the  decisive 
word,  and  see  whether  it  is  possible  for  a  daughter  to  have 
the  insolent  presumption  to  drive  her  mother  from  her  house  1" 

"  I  have  already  informed  yon  that  I  have  no  mother,  and 
that  no  one  has  the  right  to  call  me  daughter.  If  you  await 
my  decision,  you  shall  now  hear  it:  you  are  not  included 
among  those  that  I  wish  to  receive  in  my  house!" 

"Ah,  dear  Marie,  you  are  cruel!"  cried  her  husband,  quite 
frightened. 

"  She  is  a  degenerate,  good-for-nothing  creature!"  cried  the 
mother. 

"  If  I  am  so,  who  has  caused  it  but  you,  both  of  you?  "Who 
broke  my  heart,  and  crushed  it  under  foot  until  it  ceased  to 
feel,  and  turned  to  stone?  Bear  the  consequences  of  your 
cruelty  and  heartlessness !  I  cannot  change  it,  and  I  repeat, 
Frau  von  Werrig  has  not  the  right  to  enter  this  house,  or  to 
remain  here  any  longer!" 

Scalding  tears  fell  from  the  mother's  eyes  as  she  shrieked, 
"  She  drives  me  from  her  house!" 

"  I  am  only  treating  you  as  you  behaved  to  one  of  the 
noblest  and  best  of  men,"  replied  Marie,  voice  and  look  be- 


354  OLD  FRITZ   AND  THE  NEW  EEA. 

traying  her  deep  feeling.  "  You  thrust  from  your  door,  with 
scorn  and  contempt,  a  man  worthy  of  your  esteem  and  recog- 
nition, although  you  knew  that  my  heart  was  breaking.  I 
am  only  following  your  example  and  exercising  my  just 
rights,  and  am  less  guilty  than  you  are,  as  neither  of  us  has 
need  of  the  respect  or  esteem  of  the  other." 

"Can  you  suffer  this,  my  son?  Do  you  allow  any  one  in 
your  presence  to  treat  me  so  shamefully?  After  all,  it  is  your 
house ;  do  speak  and  exercise  your  right  as  master  here :  tell 
your  wife  that  I  am  her  mother,  and  you,  my  adopted  son, 
who  bears  my  name,  and  that  I  have  the  just  right  to  come 
here  as  often  as  it  pleases  me." 

"Speak  your  mind  to  Frau  von  Werrig,"  said  Marie,  as 
Ebenstreit  remained  silent.  "  Decide  which  shall  remain,  as 
one  or  the  other  of  us  must  leave ;  you  are  perfectly  free  to 
choose." 

"Then,  naturally,  there  is  no  choice  left  me,"  replied 
Ebenstreit,  despondingly.  "  I  declare  myself  for  my  wife,  of 
course,  who  is  the  noblest  and  proudest  beauty  in  Berlin,  and 
will  make  my  house  the  centre  of  attraction  to  the  aristocracy, 
nobility,  and  wealth.  This  is  my  greatest  pride,  and  to  se- 
cure this  I  wooed  my  beautiful  bride,  and  have  submitted  to 
all  the  sorrow  and  humiliation  which  have  been  my  portion. 
If  I  must  choose  between  the  mother  and  daughter,  I  naturally 
prefer  the  latter." 

"  He  abandons  me  also!"  cried  the  mother.  "  You  are  an 
ungrateful,  wretched  .man !  You  forget  that  you  owe  every 
thing  to  me,  and  that  without  me  you  were  a  miserable  mer- 
cenary, whose  stupidity  and  tediousness  were  the  ridicule  of 
every  one,  and  you  had  never  gained  the  entrance  to  a  genteel 
house.  What  have  you  now  become?  A  high-born  man, 
whose  house  every  one  will  crowd,  and  who  could  even  appear 
at  court,  as  he  bears  our  noble  and  distinguished  name.  To 
whom  do  you  owe  all  this,  but  to  me  alone?" 

"God  in  heaven,  Thou  hearest  it!"  cried  Marie,  solemnly, 
with  uplifted  arms.  "  She  acknowledges  that  she  alone  has 


THE  RETURN  HOME.  355 

brought  this  misfortune  upon  me,  and  in  this  hour  I  stand 
justified." 

"Pardon,  Frau  von  Wer rig,"  said  Ebenstreit,  haughtily; 
"  you  are  going  too  far.  After  my  fortune,  I  thank  you  for 
my  position.  I  am  certainly  of  insignificant  birth,  but  I  am 
ambitious  and  rich.  I  said  to  myself,  'Money  can  bring  about 
all  that  I  wish,'  and  you  see  it  has  accomplished  it.  My 
wealth  procured  me  a  title,  a  splendid  house,  a  beautiful  wife, 
and  a  position  in  society.  I  acknowledge  that  you  aided  me 
in  the  carrying  out  of  my  plans,  but  you  would  not  have  done 
it,  if  I  had  not  been  in  a  position  to  pay  you.  You  receive 
a  very  considerable  annuity  from  me,  therefore  you  cannot 
accuse  me  of  ingratitude,  but  must  confess  that  you  have 
driven  a  very  good  bargain.  You  must  forgive  me  if  I  beg 
of  you  to  end  this  painful  scene." 

"That  means  that  I  must  leave,"  said  Frau  von  Werrig, 
mildly,  remembering  the  gambling  debt  and  the  annuity. 
"  Very  well,  I  will  go,  and  promise  you  never  to  return,  upon 
two  conditions." 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  communicate  them,"  said  Ebenstreit. 

"  The  first  is,  pay  the  gambling-debt  of  my  husband,  who 
has  played  away  the  entire  sum  you  allow  us  yearly,  and  do 
not  deduct  it  from  our  income.  The  second  is,  increase  your 
allowance  five  hundred  thalers,  without  letting  the  general 
know  it,  and  pay  it  to  me." 

"It  is  impossible,"  cried  Ebenstreit,  terrified.  "You  mis- 
take me  for  a  Croesus,  whose  wealth  is  inexhaustible.  If  this 
expenditure  and  demand  increase,  my  colossal  fortune  will  be 
entirely  wasted,  and — " 

"You  exaggerate,"  interruped  Marie,  with  a  peculiar  brill- 
iancy in  her  eyes.  "  Such  wealth  as  yours  is  never-ending, 
and  the  banking  business,  which  you  are  still  engaged  in  under 
another  name,  is  an  inexhaustible  source  of  wealth.  I  beg 
you  to  accept  these  conditions,  that  we  may  at  last  be  at 
peace." 

"Very  well,"  said  Ebenstreit,  to  whom  the  words  of  Marie 


356  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

sounded  as  the  sweetest  music.  "I  will  then  accord  your 
wishes,  and  you  shall  have  the  five  hundred  thalers  for  your- 
self." 

"For  me  alone?" 

"Yes,  for  yourself  alone,  Frau  von  Werrig." 

"  Who  vouches  for  the  fulfilment  of  your  promise?" 

"My  word,  Frau  von  Werrig." 

"  I  have  no  confidence  but  in  a  written  promise." 

"  Then  I  will  have  it  made  out,  and  bring  you  the  document 
to-morrow  morning." 

"Then  our  business  is  finished,  and  I  can  go. — Farewell, 
baroness ;  this  is  my  last  word  to  you.  I  cursed  you  from  the 
moment  you  came  into  being.  If  you  had  been  a  son,  the 
rich  estate  in  trust  of  my  family  would  have  passed  to  you,  of 
which  I  was  the  natural  heir.  As  it  was,  it  went  to  a  distant 
relative,  and  we  received  nothing.  Therefore  your  parents 
could  not  rejoice  at  your  birth,  and  we  only  pardoned  you 
when  you  married  a  rich  man,  who  could  free  us  from  want, 
and  now  the  separation  is  no  grief  to  us.  You  have  always 
been  a  disagreeable  burden,  and  I  am  only  quit  of  a  discom- 
fort, and  renounce  forever  the  sight  of  you. — Give  me  your 
arm,  my  son,  and  accompany  me  at  least  to  the  threshold  of 
your  house,  that  you  may  be  able  to  say  to  this  cold-hearted 
viper,  that  she  is  forever  rid  of  the  sight  of  her  mother,  who 
will  never  think  of  her  but  with  chilling  contempt."  She 
seized  Ebenstreit  by  the  arm,  who  had  not  the  courage  to  re- 
sist her,  and  drew  him  along  with  her,  casting  a  look  of 
supreme  disgust  at  old  Trude,  who  stood  pale  and  sad  near 
the  door. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

BEHIND   THE   MASK. 

As  the  door  closed,  and  Marie  found  herself  alone  with  her 
old  friend  and  nurse,  a  peculiar  change  was  visible  in  her  sad 
face ;  something  of  its  former  sunny  radiance  brightened  its 


BEHIND  THE  MASK.  357 

usually  sorrowful  expression,  and  she  turned  to  greet  Trude 
with  the  smile  of  earlier,  happier  days,  though  it  was  tinged 
with  sadness  and  grief.  Impulsively  she  threw  her  arms 
around  her  faithful  nurse,  kissing  her,  and,  with  quivering 
lip,  whispering:  "A  greeting  and  a  blessing  for  you,  dear 
mother!  Take  me  to  your  kind,  disinterested  heart,  and  let 
me  there  find  repose  from  all  this  torture,  and  love  the  poor 
lost  one,  who — " 

She  drew  suddenly  back,  her  face  assuming  its  usually  cold, 
callous  look  as  she  heard  her  husband  enter. 

"  She  is  gone,  dear  Marie.  I  hope  that  you  are  gratified 
with  my  decision,  and  perceive  therein  a  proof  of  my  exces- 
sive love  and  esteem  for  you,"  said  Ebenstreit,  drawing  a  long 
breath. 

"  I  did  not  desire  this  polite  evidence  of  it,"  she  coldly  re- 
sponded. "  We  have  solemnized  our  entrance  into  this  house 
in  a  fitting  manner,  and  the  important  matter  remaining  for 
us  is  to  make  known  our  arrival  to  the  society  of  Berlin.  The 
horses  purchased  in  Alexandria,  and  the  new  carriage  from 
London,  have  already  arrived — have  they  not?" 

"  My  book-keeper  so  informed  me  a  fortnight  since,  when 
we  were  in  Paris,  and  complained  of  the  enormous  sum  which 
he  had  to  disburse." 

"You  must  forbid  him  such  a  liberty  once  for  all,"  said 
she,  and  the  strange  blending  of  joy  and  scorn  was  visible  in 
her  face.  "  It  is  inadmissible  for  a  subordinate  to  presume  to 
complain  to  his  master,  or  advise  him.  He  has  only  to  listen 
and  obey.  This  all  your  inferiors  must  understand,  and  know 
that  they  will  be  dismissed  who  murmur  or  advise!" 

"I  will  instruct  them  accordingly,"  he  sighed,  "though  I 
must  confess  my  head-man  well  understands  financial  opera- 
tions, and  during  the  many  years  that  he  has  been  with  me 
has  won  the  right  to  be  consulted  and  advised  with." 

"  Then  prove  your  gratitude  as  it  becomes  a  true  cavalier 
and  a  nobleman,"  dictated  Marie.  "Settle  his  salary  as  an 
annuity  upon  him,  and  replace  him. " 


358  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  But  he  receives  very  great  wages,  and  is  still  very  active, 
though  advanced." 

"The  more  the  reason  to  pension  him,  that  he  may  repose 
his  remaining  years  and  enjoy  the  fruit  of  his  labors.  But 
do  as  you  like.  I  have  only  told  you  how  a  noble  cavalier  would 
act;  if  you  choose  to  bargain  and  haggle,  it  is  your  own  affair." 

"  Heaven  keep  me  from  acting  otherwise  than  as  a  noble- 
xnan!"  cried  Ebenstreit. 

Marie  nodded  assent,  desiring  that  the  carriage  might  be 
ordered,  with  the  Arab  horses.  "  We  will  make  our  visits  at 
once,  as  I  will,  for  the  first  time,  open  our  large  house  for  a 
soiree  to-morrow  evening,"  she  added. 

"Ah,  that  is  charming!"  said  Ebenstreit,  delighted.  "I 
shall  at  last  have  the  opportunity  of  seeing  the  aristocratic 
Berlin  society,  and  enter  upon  the  rank  of  my  new  title." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  with  an  expression  of  irrepressible 
scorn,  "you  will  have  this  enjoyment.  Send  me  the  steward, 
I  wish  to  give  him  a  list  of  the  invited  guests.  You  can  add 
to  it  at  your  pleasure." 

"I  have  no  one  to  invite,"  cried  her  husband. 

"  No  matter !  Make  the  necessary  preparations.  I  will  go 
to  my  room  to  make  my  toilet." 

"  Will  you  not  allow  me  to  accompany  you  ?  You  are  not 
yet  familiar  with  the  house." 

"  Trude  will  show  it  to  me,  and  you  can  at  the  same  time 
give  the  orders." 

Nodding  proudly  to  Ebenstreit,  she  told  Trude  to  precede 
her,  following  the  old  woman  through  the  suite  of  brilliant 
rooms. 

"Here  is  my  lady's  dressing-room,"  said  Trude,  entering 
one  ornamented  with  mirrors,  laces,  and  gauzes. 

The  French  waiting-maid  was  busy  within,  unpacking  the 
large  trunks  filled  with  silk  and  satin  dresses  which  had  been 
purchase*!  by  the  dozens  in  Paris. 

"  Lay  out  an  elegant  visiting  toilet ;  I  will  return  directly, 
after  Trude  has  shown  me  the  house." 


BEHIND  THE  MASK.  359 

They  entered  the  adjoining  chamber,  Marie's  sleeping- 
room,  and  found  the  German  maid  arranging  the  lace  and 
silk  covering's  for  her  mistress  to  repose  herself  after  the  long 
journey.  Marie  betrayed  no  inclination  for  repose,  but  ques- 
tioned Trude  as  to  whither  the  other  door  led  to. 

"  Into  the  little  corridor,  baroness. " 

"  Did  I  not  order  that  there  should  be  but  one  entrance  to 
my  sleeping-room,  and  that  from  the  dressing-room?" 

"  Your  commands  have  been  strictly  obeyed,"  replied  Trude. 
"The  only  door  from  the  corridor  leads  to  my  two  rooms,  and 
there  is  but  one  entrance  to  them  upon  the  other  side,  which 
can  be  securely  fastened." 

Into  the  simple,  quiet  room,  at  the  baroness's  request, 
Trude  opened  the  door,  saying,  "Here  we  can  be  alone." 

Marie  pointed  silently  to  the  second  door,  and  the  old 
woman  nodded :  "  That  is  it,"  said  she.  "  I  have  done  every 
thing  as  you  directed.  After  you  left,  they  sent  me  the  fur- 
niture of  your  little  garret-room,  which  I  have  arranged 
exactly  as  it  stood  there." 

As  Marie  opened  the  door  and  found  herself  in  the  small 
room,  so  like  the  one  where  she  had  made  flowers,  given  les- 
sons, consoled  by  her  only  friend,  Trude,  her  pride  and 
reserve  vanished.  Sinking  upon  her  knees,  as  if  crushed,  she 
gave  way  to  her  long-pent-up  grief  in  one  cry  of  anguish, 
clinging  to  Trude,  and  weeping  bitterly. 

"  Here  I  am,  my  faithful  nurse,  returned  to  you  more 
wretched  and  miserable  than  when  I  left :  then,  I  felt  that  I 
could  scorn  the  world,  and  now  I  despise  myself.  Oh,  Trude, 
they  have  caused  my  wretchedness,  they  have  made  me  selfish 
and  unkind.  I  was  contented  until  now,  and  rejoiced  in 
my  misery,  and  triumphantly  thought  of  the  time  when  I  was 
wont  to  bewail  my  broken  heart  and  lost  soul.  Once  more 
with  you,  and  surrounded  with  the  souvenirs  of  my  girlhood, 
I  feel  a  horror  of  myself,  and  could  sink  in  shame  and  con- 
trition. I  have  become  as  bad  as  they  are.  Can  you  forgive 
the  hard-hearted  daughter  who  banished  her  own  mother 


360  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

from  her  house?  I  felt  that  I  could  not  endure  her  presence, 
and  feared  that  an  inveterate  rancor  and  hate  would  over- 
power me,  and  that  I  should  curse  her." 

"She  deserves  it,  my  poor  child,"  whispered  Trade,  the 
tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks.  "  She  has  just  told  you 
that  she  never  loved  you,  and  in  this  painful  scene  she 
thought  only  of  bargaining  and  making  money.  God  has 
heard  her  and  forgiven  you  as  I  do,  and  I  beg  and  implore 
Him  to  punish  those  who  have  made  you  so  wretched,  and 
that  He  will  have  no  mercy  upon  them,  as  they  have  shown 
none  to  you.  It  breaks  my  heart  to  see  you  so  changed,  and 
I  can  hardly  believe  this  cold,  haughty  lady  is  my  Marie.  In 
your  tears  I  recognize  you,  and  I  bless  God  that  you  can 
weep ;  your  grief  proves  to  me  that  you  are  yet  the  child  of 
my  heart." 

"  Oh  Trude,  you  know  not  how  I  have  longed  to  see  you ; 
it  was  my  only  consolation  in  these  painful  years.  When  I 
doubted  every  human  being,  then  I  thought  of  you,  and  was 
comforted  and  sustained." 

"  And  was  there  no  one  else  to  think  of,  my  child?" 

"  Yes,"  she  gently  murmured,  "  I  thought  of  him.  Tell  me 
all  you  know  about  him,  and  hide  nothing  from  me  in  this 
hour." 

"I  thought  you  would  ask  me,  and  I  went  to  Director 
Gedicke  yesterday,  to  inform  myself." 

"  What  did  you  hear?  Tell  me  the  most  important.  Does 
he  live?  Is  he  restored  to  health?" 

"  He  lives,  but,  for  one  year,  he  was  so  wretched  that  he 
could  not  teach ;  now  he  is  better.  Herr  Gedicke  went  him- 
self to  Spandau,  immediately  after  the  wedding,  and  brought 
him  back  with  him,  relating  as  forbearingly  and  carefully  as 
possible  the  circumstances  of  your  marriage,  and  of  your  sac- 
rificing yourself  for  him  alone." 

"  How  did  he  receive  it?     What  did  he  say?" 

"  Nothing.  His  eyes  were  fixed,  and  his  lips  uttered  not  a 
sound.  This  lasted  for  weeks,  and  suddenly  he  became  ex- 


BEHIND  THE  MASK.  361 

cited,  enraged,  and  they  were  obliged  to  bind  him  to  keep 
him  from  injuring  himself." 

"  Tell  me  no  more,"  cried  Marie,  shuddering.  "  I  thought 
myself  stronger,  nay,  heartless,  and  yet  it  seems  as  if  a  hand 
of  iron  were  tearing,  rending  my  soul!" 

"That  is  well,"  said  Trude,  gently;  "you  must  awaken 
from  this  hardened  indifference ;  giving  way  to  your  grief  in 
tears  will  soften  your  heart,  and  it  will  again  be  penetrated 
with  the  love  of  God  and  mankind.  I  will  tell  you  every 
thing;  you  ought  to  know  how  poor,  dear  Moritz  suffered. 
After  he  vented  his  rage  he  became  melancholy,  and  withdrew 
to  Halle  in  solitude,  living  in  a  hay-loft.  His  favorite  book 
and  an  old  piano  were  his  only  companions;  no  one  presumed 
to  intrude  upon  him,  and  they  even  conveyed  his  food  secretly 
to  him,  shoving  it  through  a  door.  He  talked  aloud  to  him- 
self for  hours  long,  and  at  night  sang  so  touchingly,  accom- 
panying himself  upon  the  piano,  that  those  who  listened 
wept." 

Marie  wept  also — scalding  tears  trickled  through  her  fingers 
as  she  lay  upon  the  floor. 

Trude  continued:  "Moritz  lived  in  this  way  one  year; 
his  friends  knew  how  he  was  suffering,  and  they  proved  in 
their  deeds  how  much  they  loved  and  esteemed  him.  The 
teachers  at  the  Gymnasium  divided  his  hours  of  instruction 
among  them,  that  he  should  not  forfeit  his  place  and  lose  his 
salary.  Even  the  king  showed  great  sympathy  for  him,  send- 
ing to  inquire  for  him.  Herr  Gedicke  visited  him  frequently 
at  Halle;  and  once  when  about  to  mount  the  ladder  to  the 
hay-loft  he  met  Moritz  descending,  carefully  dressed,  in  a 
reasonable,  gentle  mood,  and  then  he  returned  with  him  to 
Berlin.  There  was  great  rejoicing  in  the  college  over  his  re- 
turn, and  they  feted  him,  witnessing  so  much  love  for  him 
that  it  was  really  touching.  He  has  been  promoted  to  profes- 
sor, and  at  the  express  command  of  the  king  he  teaches  the 
young  Prince  Frederick  William  in  Latin  and  Greek.  Oh, 
he  is  so  much  esteemed  and — " 
24 


362  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"And  is  married  I  hope,"  murmured  Marie.  "Is  he  not 
happily  married,  Trude?" 

"  No.  Herr  Gedicke  says  he  could  marry  a  wealthy  girl,  f  01 
he  is  a  great  favorite,  and  is  invited  into  the  most  distinguished 
society.  He  repels  every  one,  and  has  become  a  woman-hater. " 

"He  hates  them — does  that  mean  that  he  hates  me?" 

"  Yes,  he  thoroughly  scorns  and  despises  you ;  so  much  so 
that  Herr  Gedicke  says  you  should  know  of  it,  and  keep  out 
of  his  way.  He  has  sworn  to  publicly  show  his  contempt  for 
you,  and  therefore  his  friends  wish  you  to  be  apprised  of  it, 
and  not  encounter  him  in  society." 

"It  is  well,  I  thank  you,"  said  Marie,  rising;  "I  will  act 
accordingly.  Kiss  me  once  more,  my  dear  mother,  and  let 
me  repose  my  weary  head  upon  your  bosom.  Ah,  Trude, 
what  a  sorrow  life  is!" 

"  You  will  yet  learn  to  love  it  again,  Marie." 

"If  I  thought  that  I  could  sink  so  low,  I  would  kill. myself 
this  very  hour.  I  know  myself  better,  and  only  for  revenge 
do  I  live.  Hush !  say  nothing  more.  Look  at  me !  I  am 
cursed,  and  there  in  those  gaudy  rooms  in  my  purgatory; 
here  is  my  paradise,  and  here  the  wicked  demon  may  dare  to 
change  into  the  sad,  wretched  wife,  who  mourns  the  happy 
days  already  flown,  and  weeps  the  inconsolable  future.  Oft 
will  I  come  here  in  the  night  when  those  sleep  who  think  me 
so  proud  and  happy,  and  you  alone  shall  behold  me  as  I  am. 
Now  I  must  back  to  purgatory. — Farewell!" 

A  half  hour  later  a  splendid  carriage  drove  from  the  house 
of  Herr  Ebenstreit  von  Leuthen.  The  people  upon  the  stree" 
stood  in  wondering  admiration  of  the  beautiful  Arab  horses 
with  the  costly  silver-mounted  harness,  and  sought  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  occupants  of  the  carriage,  an  insignificant, 
meagre,  blond-haired  man,  who  appeared  like  a  servant  be- 
side the  lovely  pale  wife,  though  proud  and  indifferent,  who 
kept  her  eyes  fixed  steadily  before  her. 

The  chasseur,  with  his  waving  plumes,  sat  upon  the  box 
beside  the  rich-liveried  coachman. 


THE  CURSE.  363 

As  the  married  couple  returned  from  their  drive,  having 
left  their  cards  at  the  most  distinguished  houses  in  Berlin, 
thb  baroness  handed  the  list  of  guests  to  be  invited  to  the 
baron  to  examine.  He  glanced  hastily  over  it,  assuring  her 
that  every  thing  should  be  directed  as  she  desired,  deferring 
all  to  her  superior  knowledge.  Suddenly  he  seemed  confused, 
even  frightened.  "What  is  the  matter?  What  were  you 
about  to  remark?"  asked  Marie,  indifferently. 

"  I  was  in  error.  I  have,  without  doubt,  read  it  wrong.  I 
beg  pardon  for  a  foolish  blunder,  but  will  you  tell  me  this 
name?" 

Marie  bent  forward  to  look  at  the  paper  which  her  husband 
handed  her,  and,  pointing  with  her  finger,  read  "  Professor 
Philip  Moritz. " 

"Do  you  intend  to  invite  him?"  asked  Ebenstreit,  quite 
alarmed. 

"Why  should  I  not?  He  belongs  to  the  circle  of  friends 
and  acquaintances,  and  it  is  natural  that  I  should  include 
him.  Moreover,  there  is  not  a  little  gossip,  and  it  is  neces- 
sary to  silence  it.  If  you  are  not  of  my  opinion,  strike  out 
the  name." 

"  Not  at  all,  dearest.  On  the  contrary,  you  are  perfectly 
right,  and  I  admire  you  for  it." 

"  Then  give  the  list  to  the  butler,  for  it  is  quite  time  that 
the  invitations  were  given  out." 


OHAPTEK    XXXV. 

THE    CURSE. 

THE  evening  of  the  soiree  had  arrived.  In  quick  succession 
drove  the  carriages  up  the  broad  entrance  to  the  mansion  of 
Herr  Ebenstreit.  The  curious  street  public  pressed  in  com- 
pact masses  near  the  gate  to  peep  in,  or  at  least  catch  a  fugi- 
tive glance  of  the  ladies  alighting  from  their  carriages,  who 
were  received  by  the  butler  at  the  foot  of  the  carpeted  steps. 


364  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

A  host  of  gold-bespangled  footmen  lined  the  entrance  upon 
each  side,  which  was  ornamented  with  the  most  exquisite  hot- 
house plants,  filling  the  air  with  perfume. 

Two  tall,  stately  footmen,  with  broad  gold  shoulder-bands 
and  large  gilt  batons,  stood  at  the  door  of  the  anteroom, 
which  was  brilliantly  illuminated  with  chandeliers  and  side- 
lights, reflected  in  the  numerous  mirorrs.  The  anteroom  led 
into  the  reception-room  by  wide  folding-doors,  where  the 
names  were  given  to  the  usher,  who  announced  them  in  a 
stentorian  voice  in  the  drawing-room.  There  stood  the  Baron 
von  Ebenstreit  to  receive  the  guests,  all  smiles,  and  with  bus- 
tling assiduity  accompany  them  to  the  adjoining  drawing-room 
to  present  them  to  the  baroness. 

Among  the  select  company  were  conspicuous  the  most  dis- 
tinguished names  of  the  aristocracy.  Generals  and  staff- 
officers,  countesses  and  baronesses  were  crowded  together, 
with  the  ladies  of  the  financial  world,  near  ministers  and 
counsellors  in  this  gorgeous  saloon,  which  was  the  delight  and 
admiration  of  the  envious,  and  excited  the  tongues  of  the 
slanderous.  Those  acquainted  gathered  in  the  window-niches 
and  cosy  corners,  maliciously  criticising  the  motley  crowd, 
and  eminently  consoled  with  the  sure  prospect  of  the  ruin  of 
the  late  banker,  surrounding  himself  with  such  unbecoming 
splendor  and  luxury,  the  bad  taste  of  his  arrogant,  over- 
dressed, and  extravagant  wife. 

"Have  you  noticed  her  parure  of  diamonds?"  whispered 
the  Countess  Moltke  to  Frau  von  Morien.  "  If  they  are  real, 
then  she  wears  an  estate  upon  her  shoulders." 

"  The  family  estate  of  Von  Leuthen,"  laughingly  replied 
Frau  von  Morien.  "  You  know,  I  suppose,  that  the  father  of 
General  von  Leuthen  was  a  brick-burner,  and  he  may  have 
succeeded  in  changing  a  few  bricks  into  diamonds." 

"You  are  wicked,  sweet  one,"  replied  the  countess,  smil- 
ing. "  One  must  acknowledge  that  her  toilet  is  charming. 
I  have  never  seen  its  equal.  The  gold  lace  over  the  rose- 
colored  satin  is  superb." 


THE  CURSE.  365 

"  Yes,  and  the  mingling  of  straw  feathers,  diamonds,  flow- 
ers, lace,  and  birds  is  truly  ridiculous  in  her  head-draw." 

"  It  must  have  been  copied  exactly  from  the  one  which  the 
Queen  Marie  Antoinette  wore  at  the  ball  at  Versailles  a  fort- 
night since.  The  baroness  was  present  at  this  court  ball  with 
her  greyhound  of  a  husband,  and  created  quite  a  sensation 
with  her  costly  recherchee  toilet,  as  the  French  ambassador 
told  us  yesterday." 

"Certainly  not  by  her  manner,"  said  Frau  von  Morien. 
"  She  is  insupportably  arrogant  and  self-sufficient.  What  do 
you  think  of  this  pretentious  manner  of  announcing  our 
names,  as  if  we  were  at  an  auction  where  they  sold  titles?" 

"  It  is  a  very  good  French  custom,"  remarked  the  countess. 
"  But  it  does  not  become  a  lady  of  doubtful  nobility  and  un- 
certain position,  to  introduce  foreign  customs  here.  She 
should  leave  this  to  others,  and  modestly  accept  those  already 
in  use  by  us." 

"One  remarks  the  puffed-up  parvenue,"  whispered  Frau 
von  Morien.  "  Every  thing  smells  of  the  varnish  upon  the 
newly-painted  coat-of-arms. " 

"  Hush,  my  friend !  there  comes  the  baroness  leaning  upon 
the  arm  of  the  French  ambassador.  She  is  indeed  imposing 
in  appearance,  and  one  could  mistake  her  for  a  queen." 

"  Could  any  one  ever  suppose  that  this  queen  once  made 
flowers  to  sell?     Come,  countess,  I  have  just  thought  of  a 
charming  scene  to  revenge  myself  upon  this  arrogant  person 
age." 

Giving  her  arm  to  the  countess,  she  approached  her  hostess 
leaning  upon  the  arm  of  the  Marquis  de  Treves,  the  French 
ambassador,  as  they  were  standing  beneath  the  immense  chan- 
delier of  rock  crystal,  which  sparkled  above  them  like  a  crown 
of  stars,  causing  her  diamonds  to  look  as  if  in  one  blaze  of  differ- 
ent hues. 

"  Oh,  permit  us  to  sun  ourselves  in  your  rays,  ma  toute 
fiette,"  said  the  Countess  Moltke.  "One  could  well  fancy 
themselves  in  a  fairy  palace,  so  enchanting  is  every  thing  here." 


3GC  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  And  the  baroness's  appearance  confirms  this  impression," 
remarked  the  gallant  Frenchman.  "Fancy  could  not  well 
paint  a  more  lovely  fairy  in  one's  happiest  dreams." 

"  Yes,  truly  I  wander  around  as  if  in  an  enchanted  scene. 
I  feel  as  if  I  must  seize  myself  by  the  head  and  be  well  shaken, 
to  convince  myself  that  I  am  really  awake  and  not  dreaming 
a  chapter  from  Aladdin.  I  made  the  effort,  but  felt  the 
wreath  of  roses  in  my  hair,  and — " 

"And  that  convinced  you  of  your  wakefulness,"  said  the 
baroness,  a  little  haughtily.  Turning  to  the  ambassador,  she 
added :  "  Do  you  observe,  monsieur  le  marquis,  what  a  delicate 
attention  this  lady  shows  me  in  wearing  a  wreath  of  flowers 
which  I  manufactured?" 

"Comment!  The  baroness  is  truly  a  fairy!  She  causes 
flowers  to  grow  at  her  pleasure,  and  vies  with  Nature.  It 
seems  impossible.  I  can  scarcely  believe  it." 

"  And  yet  it  is  true,"  said  Frau  von  Morien.  "  The  baron- 
ess, indeed,  fabricated  these  roses  three  years  since,  when  she 
had  the  kindness  to  work  for  me.  You  will  acknowledge  that 
I  have  kept  them  well?" 

"It  was  no  kindness  of  mine,  but  a  necessity,"  said  the 
baroness,  "  and  I  must  confess  that  I  would  not  have  under- 
taken so  troublesome  a  piece  of  work  from  pure  goodness  or 
pleasure.  You  will  remember  that  I  was  very  poor  before  my 
marriage,  and  as  Frau  von  Morien  was  one  of  my  customers, 
it  is  very  natural  that  she  possesses  my  flowers.  She  gave  me 
many  orders,  and  paid  me  a  very  small  price,  for  she  is  very 
practical  and  prudent,  and  understands  bargaining  and 
cheapening,  and  when  one  is  poor  they  are  obliged  to  yield  to 
the  shameless  parsimony  of  the  rich.  I  thank  you,  my  dear 
benefactress,  for  the  honor  you  have  shown  me  in  wearing  my 
flowers,  for  it  has  been  a  pleasant  occasion  to  explain  ourselves 
and  recognize  each  other.  Have  the  kindness  to  recall  other 
remembrances  of  the  past." 

"I  do  not  remember  possessing  any  other  souvenirs,"  re- 
plied the  countess,  confused. 


THE  CURSE.  36? 

"  Have  you  forgotten  that  I  gave  French  lessons  to  your 
niece,  the  present  Frau  von  Hohenthal?  She  came  to  me 
three  times  weekly,  because  the  lessons  were  a  few  groschen 
cheaper  at  the  house." 

At  this  instant  the  usher  announced  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Pro- 
fessor Philip  Moritz." 

A  gentleman  of  slight  proportions,  in  an  elegant  fashion- 
able dress,  appeared  and  remained  standing  in  the  doorway, 
his  large  black  eyes  wandering  searchingly  through  the  draw- 
ing-room. Herr  von  Ebenstreit  approached,  extending  him 
his  hand,  uttering  a  few  unintelligible  words,  which  his  guest 
appeared  not  to  notice,  but,  slightly  inclining,  asked  if  he 
would  present  him  to  the  lady  of  the  house. 

"Have  the  kindness  to  follow  me,"  said  Ebenstreit,  leading 
Moritz  through  the  circle  of  jesting,  slandering  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  to  the  centre  of  the  room,  where  Marie  was  still 
standing  with  the  French  ambassador  and  the  two  ladies. 

"  My  dear,"  said  her  husband,  "  I  have  brought  you  an  old 
acquaintance,  Professor  Moritz." 

As  Ebenstreit  would  retreat,  Moritz  commanded  him  to  re- 
main, placing  his  white-gloved  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  hold- 
ing him  fast.  "  I  would  ask  you  one  question  before  I  speak 
with  the  baroness." 

Moritz  spoke  so  loud,  and  in  such  a  strange,  harsh,  and 
repulsive  manner,  that  every  one  turned  astonished,  asking 
himself  what  it  meant.  Conversation  was  hushed,  and  the 
curious  pressed  toward  the  peculiar  group  in  the  centre — to 
the  baroness,  who  regarded  her  husband  perfectly  composed, 
and  the  pale  man,  with  the  flashing  eyes,  the  glance  of  which 
pierced  her  like  daggers. 

A  breathless  silence  reigned,  broken  only  by  Eebnstreit's 
trembling  voice.  "What  is  it,  professor?  How  can  I  serve 
you?" 

"  Tell  me  who  you  are?"  replied  Moritz,  with  a  gruff  laugh. 

"I  am  the  Baron  Ebenstreit  von  Leu  then!" 

"  And  the  scar  which  you  bear  upon  your  face,  is  it  not  the 


368  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

mark  of  a  whip,  with  which  I  lashed  a  certain  Herr  Eben- 
streit  three  years  since,  who  prevented  my  eloping  with  my 
betrothed?  I  challenged  him  to  fight  a  duel,  but  the  coward  re- 
fused me  satisfaction,  and  then  I  struck  him  in  the  face,  caus- 
ing the  blood  to  flow.  Answer  me — are  you  this  gentleman?" 

Not  a  sound  interrupted  the  fearfully  long  pause  which 
followed.  Every  one  turned  astonished  to  Ebenstreit,  who, 
pale  as  death,  was  powerless  to  utter  a  word,  but  stood  staring 
at  his  opponent. 

"Why  do. you  not  answer  me?"  cried  Moritz,  stamping  his 
foot.  "Are  you  the  coward?  Was  this  red  scar  caused  by 
the  whip-lash?" 

Another  long  pause  ensued,  and  a  distinctly  audible  voice 
was  heard,  saying,  "Yes,  it  is  he!" 

"Who  replied  to  me?"  asked  Moritz,  turning  his  angry 
glance  away  from  Ebenstreit. 

"  I,"  said  Marie.     "  I  reply  for  my  husband !" 

"  You?     Are  you  the  wife  of  this  man?"  thundered  Moritz. 

"I  am,"  Marie  answered. 

"Is  this  invitation  directed  to  me  from  you?"  he  con- 
tinued, drawing  a  paper  from  his  pocket.  "  Did  you  permit 
yourself  to  invite  me  to  your  house?" 

"Yes,  I  did,"  she  calmly  answered. 

"And  by  what  right,  madame?  This  is  the  question  I 
wish  answered,  and  I  came  here  for  that  purpose. " 

"  I  invited  you  because  I  desired  to  see  you. " 

"Shameless  one!"  cried  Moritz,  furious. 

"  Sir,"  cried  the  ambassador,  placing  himself  before  Morita, 
defying  his  anger,  "you  forget  that  you  are  speaking  to  a 
lady.  As  her  husband  is  silent,  I  declare  myself  her  knight, 
and  I  will  not  suffer  her  to  be  injured  by  word  or  look.' 

"How  can  you  hinder  me?"  cried  Moritz,  with  scorn. 
"  What  will  you  do  if  I  dash  this  paper  at  her  feet,  and  forbid 
her  to  ever  write  my  name  again?"  Making  a  ball  of  it.  he 
suited  the  action  to  the  word,  casting  a  defiant  look  at  the 
marquis. 


V  *  -k 

THE  CURSE.  369 

"  I  shall  order  the  footmen  to  thrust  you  out  of  the  house.  — 
Here,  servants,  remove  this  man;  he  is  an  escaped  lunatic, 
undoubtedly." 

Two  footmen  pressed  forward  through  the  circle  which 
crowded  around  Moritz. 

"Whoever  touches  me,  death  to  him!"  thundered  Moritz, 
laying  his  hand  upon  a  small  sword  at  his  side. 

"  Let  no  one  dare  lay  a  hand  on  this  gentleman,"  cried  Marie, 
with  a  commanding  wave  of  her  hand  to  the  lackeys.  "  I  be- 
seech you,  marquis,  and  you,  honored  guests,  to  quietly  await 
the  conclusion  of  this  scene,  and  to  permit  Herr  Moritz  to 
finish  speaking." 

"Do  you  mean  to  defy  me,  madame?"  muttered  Moritz, 
gnashing  his  teeth.  "  You  perhaps  count  upon  my  magna- 
nimity to  keep  silent,  and  not  disclose  the  secrets  of  the  past 
to  this  aristocratic  assembly.  I  stand  here  as  its  accusing 
spirit,  and  condemn  you  as  a  shameless  perjurer. — I  will  ask 
you  who  are  here  rendering  homage  to  this  woman,  if  you 
know  who  she  is,  and  of  what  she  has  been  guilty?  As  a 
young  girl  she  was  as  sweet  and  innocent  as  an  angel,  and 
seemed  more  like  a  divine  revelation.  To  think  of  her,  in- 
spired and  elevated  one's  thoughts,  and  heaven  was  mirrored 
in  her  eyes.  She  was  poor,  and  yet  so  infinitely  rich,  that  if  a 
king  had  laid  all  his  treasures  at  her  feet,  as  the  gift  of  his  love, 
he  would  receive  more  than  he  gave,  for  in  her  heart  reposed 
the  wealth  of  the  whole  human  race.  Oh !  I  could  weep  tears 
of  blood  in  reflecting  upon  what  she  was,  and  what  she  has 
become.  Smile  and  mock,  ladies  and  gentlemen ;  my  brain 
is  crazed,  and  I  weep  for  my  lost  angel." 

Moritz  dashed  his  hands  to  his  face,  and  stood  swaying 
backward  and  forward,  sobbing. 

Sighs  and  regrets  were  heard  in  the  room.  The  ladies 
pressed  their  handkerchiefs  to  their  eyes;  others  regarded 
with  lively  sympathy  the  handsome  young  man,  who  deeply 
interested  them,  and  gazed  reproachfully  at  the  young  baron- 
ess, expecting  her  to  be  crushed  with  these  reproaches  and 


370  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

tears,  but  who,  on  the  contrary,  stood  with  proud  composure, 
her  face  beaming  with  joy,  gazing  at  Moritz. 

"  It  is  past — my  last  tear  is  shed,  and  my  last  wail  has  been 
uttered,"  cried  Philip,  uncovering  his  face.  "My  angel  has 
changed  into  a  despicable  woman.  I  loved  her  as  the 
wretched,  disconsolate  being  adores  the  one  who  reveals  para- 
dise to  him ;  and  she  fooled  me  into  the  belief  that  she  loved 
me.  We  exchanged  vows  of  eternal  constancy  and  affection, 
and  promised  each  other  to  bear  joyfully  every  ill  in  life,  and 
never  separate  until  death.  I  should  have  doubted  myself, 
rather  than  she  who  stood  above  me,  like  a  divine  revelation. 
I  wished  to  win  her  by  toil  and  industry,  by  my  intellect,  and 
the  fame  by  which  I  could  render  my  name  illustrious.  It 
was,  indeed,  nothing  in  the  eyes  of  her  grasping  parents; 
they  repulsed  me  with  scorn  and  pride,  but  Marie  encouraged 
me  to  perfect  confidence  in  her  affection.  Whilst  I  wandered 
on  foot  to  Silesia,  like  a  poor  pilgrim  toward  happiness,  to 
humble  myself  before  the  king,  to  beg  and  combat  for  my 
angel,  there  came  temptation,  sin,  and  vulgarity,  in  the  form 
of  this  pale,  cowed-down  man,  who  stands  beside  my  betrothed 
gasping  with  rage.  The  temptation  of  riches  changed  my 
angel  into  a  demon,  a  miserable  woman  bartered  for  gold! 
She  betrayed  her  love,  yielding  it  up  for  filthy  lucre,  crushing 
her  nobler  nature  in  the  dust,  and  driving  over  it,  as  did 
Tullia  the  dead  body  of  her  father.  She  sold  herself  for 
riches,  before  which  you  all  kneel,  as  if  worshipping  the  golden 
calf!  After  selling  her  soul  to  a  man  whom  she  despised, 
even  if  he  were  not  rich,  she  has  had  the  boldness  to  summon 
me,  the  down-trodden  and  half-crazed  victim,  to  her  gilded 
palace,  as  if  I  were  a  slave  to  be  attached  to  her  triumphal 
car.  I  am  a  free  man,  and  have  come  here  only  to  hurl  con- 
tempt in  her  face,  to  brand  her  before  you  all  as  a  perjurer 
and  a  traitress,  whom  I  never  will  pardon,  but  will  curse  with 
my  latest  breath !  Now  I  have  relieved  my  heart  of  its  bur- 
den, I  command  this  woman  to  deny  what  I  have  said,  if  she 
can." 


THE  CURSE.  37] 

With  a  dictatorial  wave  of  the  hand,  he  pointed  excitedly 
to  Marie.  A  deathlike  stillness  reigned.  Even  the  lights 
seemed  to  grow  dim,  and  every  one  was  oppressed  as  if  by  ex- 
cessive sultriness. 

Agaiu  Moritz  commanded  Marie  to  acknowledge  the  truth 
of  his  accusations  before  the  honored  assembly. 

She  encountered  his  angry  glance  with  calmness,  and  a 
smile  was  perceptible  upon  her  lip.  "  Yes,"  said  she,  "  I  ac- 
knowledge that  I  am  a  perjurer  and  a  traitor.  I  have  sold 
myself  for  riches,  and  yielded  my  peace  of  soul  and  my  love 
for  mammon.  I  might  justify  myself,  but  I  refrain  from  it, 
and  will  only  say  that  you  have  told  the  truth !  One  day  you 
will  cease  to  curse  me,  and  perhaps  a  tear  of  pity  will  glisten 
in  the  eye  now  flashing  with  scorn  and  anger.  The  poor  wife 
who  lies  in  the  dust  implores  for  the  last  blessing  of  your  love!" 

"Marie!"  he  cried,  with  heart-rending  anguish,  "oh, 
Marie!"  and  rushed  toward  her,  kneeling  before  her,  and 
clinging  to  her,  pressing  a  kiss  upon  her  hand  and  weeping 
aloud.  Only  for  a  moment  did  he  give  way,  and  then  sprang 
up  wildly,  rushing  through  the  crowd,  out  of  the  room. 

A  fearful  silence  ensued.  No  one  had  the  courage  to  break 
it.  Every  one  hoped  that  Marie,  through  a  simulated  faint- 
ing, would  end  the  painful  scene,  and  give  the  guests  an 
opportunity  to  withdraw.  No  such  thoughtfulness  for  her 
friends  occurred  to  her. 

She  turned  to  the  Marquis  de  Troves,  who  stood  pale  and 
deeply  agitated  behind  her,  and  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 

"  How  pale  you  are !  Have  you  taken  this  comedy  for 
truth?  Did  you  think  this  theatrical  performance  was  a 
reality?  You  have  forgotten  what  I  told  you  a  month  since 
in  Paris,  that  I  had  a  native  talent  for  acting.  You  would 
contest  the  matter  with  me,  and  I  bet  you  that  I  could  intro- 
duce an  impromptu  scene  in  my  house,  with  such  artistic 
skill,  that  you  would  be  quite  deceived. " 

"Indeed  I  do  recall  it;  how  could  I  have  forgotten  it?"  re- 
plied the  marquis,  with  the  ready  tact  of  the  diplomat. 


372  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"Have  I  won?"  asked  Marie,  smiling. 

"You  have  played  your  role,  baroness,  like  an  artiste  of 
consummate  talent,  and  to-morrow  I  shall  have  the  honor  to 
cancel  the  debt  in  your  favor." 

"  Now,  then,  give  me  your  arm,  marquis,  and  conduct  me 
to  the  dancing-room,  and  you,  worthy  guests,  follow  us,"  said 
Marie,  leading  the  way. 

The  merry  music  even  was  not  sufficient  to  dissipate  tha 
awkward  oppression,  and  by  midnight  the  guests  had  taken, 
leave,  and  Marie  stood  under  the  chandelier,  pale  and  rigid, 
opposite  her  husband.  He  had  summoned  courage  to  bewail 
the  terrible  scene,  weeping  and  mourning  over  her  cruelty  and 
his  shame.  Marie,  with  chilling  indiiference,  regarded  him 
without  one  visible  trace  of  pity. 

"  You  realized  what  you  were  doing  when  you  imposed  the 
scorn  of  this  marriage  upon  me,"  she  said.  "I  have  never 
deceived  you  with  vain  hopes!  You  have  sown  dragons' 
teeth,  and  warriors  have  sprung  up  to  revenge  me  upon  you. 
Serve  yourself  of  your  riches  to  fight  the  combatants.  See  if 
you  can  bargain  for  a  quiet  conscience  as  easily  as  you  pur- 
chased me !  My  soul  is  free  though,  and  it  hovers  over  you 
as  the  spirit  of  revenge. — Beware!" 

She  slowly  turned  and  quitted  the  room.  Her  diamonds 
Bparkled  and  blazed  in  the  myriads  of  lights.  The  large  mir- 
rors reflected  the  image  of  a  haughty  woman,  who  swept 
proudly  past  like  a  goddess  of  revenge! 

Ebenstreit  stood  gazing  after  her.  He  had  a  horror  of  the 
lonely  still  room,  so  gorgeous  and  brilliantly  illuminated — a 
shudder  crept  over  him,  and  he  sank,  weeping  bitterly. 

In  the  little  room,  the  buried  happiness  of  the  past,  Maria 
knelt,  with  outstretched  arms,  imploring  heaven  for  mercy. 
"  I  thank  Thee,  Heavenly  Father,  that  I  have  been  permitted 
to  see  him  again!  My  sacrifice  was  not  in  vain — he  lives! 
He  is  free,  and  his  mind  is  clear  and  bright.  I  thank  Thee 
that  he  still  loves  me.  His  anger  is  but  love!" 


THE  KING  AND  THE  ROSICRUCIANS.  373 

CHAPTEE    XXXVI. 

THE    KING    AND   THE    ROSICRUCIANS. 

THE  joy  which  Bischofswerder  said,  reigned  in  heaven  and 
upon  earth  over  the  return  of  the  crown  prince  to  the  path  of 
virtue,  in  having  forsaken  Wilhelmine  Enke,  was  of  but 
short  duration. 

The  Invisibles  and  the  pious  Eosicrucians  soon  learned  that 
a  sagacious  and  cunning  woman  defied  the  spirits  and  abjured 
the  oaths. 

Since  the  night  of  his  communion  with  the  departed,  Fred- 
erick William  had  never  visited  Charlottenburg — never  seen 
the  house  which  contained  all  that  he  held  most  dear;  he  had 
returned  Wilhelmine's  letters  unopened,  and  had  even  had 
the  courage  to  refuse  himself  to  the  children,  who  came  to  see 
him. 

If  he  had  been  left  to  consult  his  own  heart,  he  would  not 
probably  have  had  sufficient  resolution  to  have  done  this; 
Bischofswerder  and  Wollner  never  left  him  for  a  moment,  aa 
they  said  the  Invisible  Fathers  had  commanded  them  to  tarry 
with  the  much-loved  brother  in  these  first  days  of  trial  and 
temptation,  and  to  elevate  and  gladden  him  with  edifying 
conversations  and  scientific  investigations. 

The  prayers  and  exhortations  were  the  duty  of  Wollner, 
who,  besides  this,  continued  his  daily  discourses  upon  the 
administration  of  government,  preparing  the  prince  for  the 
important  command  of  the  royal  regiments,  which  they  hoped 
favorable  destiny  would  soon  grant  him. 

The  scientific  researches  were  the  part  of  Bischofswerder, 
and  he  entered  upon  his  duties  with  the  zeal  and  pleasure  of 
an  inquiring  mind,  itself  hopeful  and  believing. 

In  the  cabinet  arranged  in  the  new  palace  at  Potsdam,  the 
prince  and  his  dear  Bischofswerder  worked  daily,  many 
hours,  to  discover  the  great  hope  of  the  alchemist — the  philos- 


374  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

opher's  stone.  Not  finding  it,  unfortunately,  they  brewed  all 
sorts  of  miraculous  drinks,  which  were  welcome  to  the  prince 
as  the  elixir  of  eternal  youth  and  constant  love.  In  the  even- 
ings they  communed  with  the  spirits  of  the  distinguished 
departed,  which,  moved  at  the  earnest  prayers  of  Wollner,  and 
the  fervent  exhortation  of  the  crown  prince,  always  had  the 
goodness  to  appear,  and  witness  their  satisfaction  for  their 
much-loved  son,  as  they  called  him,  for  continuing  brave  and 
faithful, and  not  falling  into  the  unholy  snares  of  the  seductress. 

The  crown  prince,  however,  experienced  not  the  least  self- 
contentment.  Each  day  renewed  the  yearning  for  the  beloved 
of  his  youth  and  for  his  children,  for  which  those  of  his  wife 
were  no  compensation — neither  the  silent,  awkward  Prince 
Frederick  William,  nor  his  crying  little  brother.  In  his 
dreams  he  saw  Wilhelmine  dissolved  in  tears,  calling  upon 
him  in  most  tender  accents,  and  when  he  awoke,  it  was  to  an 
inconsolable  grief.  He  wept  with  heart-felt  sorrow ;  his  oath 
alone  kept  him  from  hastening  to  her;  it  bound  him,  and 
fettered  his  earnest  wish  to  see  her,  making  him  sad  and 
melancholy. 

The  spirits  had  no  pity  nor  mercy  upon  him.  His  two 
confidants  encouraged  his  virtue  and  piety  from  morning  till 
night,  exalting  his  excited  fancy  with  their  marvellous  rela- 
tions and  apparitions. 

One  day  as  they  were  on  the  point  of  commencing  the 
morning  prayers  to  the  Invisibles,  a  royal  footman  appeared, 
with  the  command  to  betake  themselves  to  Sans-Souci,  where 
the  king  awaited  them. 

A  royal  carriage  was  in  attendance  to  convey  them.  There 
was  no  alternative  but  obedience. 

"  Perhaps  Fate  destines  us  to  become  martyrs  to  the  holy 
cause,"  said  Wolluer,  devoutly  folding  his  hands. 

"  We  may  never  enjoy  the  happiness  of  seeing  our  dear 
brothers  of  the  confederacy  again,"  sighed  Bischofswerder. 
"  Our  spirits  will  always  be  with  you,  my  prince,  and  the  In- 
visible Fathers  will  protect  you  in  all  your  ways." 


THE  KING  AND  THE  ROSICRUCIANS.  375 

The  crown  prince,  deeply  moved,  separated  from  his  friends 
with  tears  in  his  eyes;  but  as  the  carriage  rolled  away  he  felt 
relieved  as  of  an  oppressive  burden,  and  breathed  more  freely. 

At  the  same  time  a  footman  entered,  bearing  upon  a  golden 
salver  a  letter  for  the  prince.  Unobserved  and  free  to  act,  he 
read  it,  and  as  he  sat  musingly  thinking  over  its  contents,  so 
tender  and  affectionate,  he  re-read  it,  and  rising,  made  a  bold 
resolve,  his  face  beaming  with  happiness,  to  order  his  carriage, 
which  he  did,  and  in  a  few  moments  more  drove  at  full  speed 
away  from  the  palace. 

Bischofswerder  and  Wollner,  in  the  mean  time,  arrived  at 
Sans- Sou ci.  The  footman  awaiting  them  conducted  them  at 
once  through  the  picture-gallery,  into  the  little  corridor  lead- 
ing to  the  king's  cabinet,  and  there  left  them  to  announce 
them  to  his  majesty.  Both  gentlemen  heard  their  names 
called  in  a  loud  voice,  and  the  response  of  the  king:  "Let 
them  wait  in  the  little  corridor  until  I  permit  them  to  enter." 

The  footman  returned  and  with  subdued  voice  made  known 
the  royal  command,  and  departed,  carefully  closing  the  door. 

There  was  no  seat  in  the  narrow,  little  corridor,  and  the  air 
was  close  and  oppressive. 

They  could  hear  voices  in  mingled  conversation;  sometimes 
it  seemed  as  if  the  king  were  communicating  commands; 
again,  as  if  he  dictated  in  a  suppressed  voice.  The  Rosicrr- 
cians  knew  very  well  it  was  the  hour  of  the  cabinet  council, 
and  they  waited  patiently  and  steadfastly,  but  as  their  watches 
revealed  the  fact  that  three  hours  had  passed,  and  every  noise 
was  hushed,  they  concluded  they  were  forgotten,  and  resolved 
to  remind  the  lackey  of  their  presence. 

"Indeed,  this  standing  is  quite  insupportable,"  whispered 
Wollner. 

They  both  slipped  to  the  entrance  and  tried  the  bronze 
knob,  but  although  it  turned,  the  door  opened  not,  and  was 
evidently  fastened  upon  the  outside.  They  looked  alarmed 
at  each  other,  asking  what  it  could  mean.  "  Can  it  be  in- 
tentional? Are  we  imprisoned  here?  We  must  be  resigned, 


376  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

although  it  is  a  severe  experience."  At  last,  patience  ex- 
hausted, they  resolved  to  bear  it  no  longer,  and  tapped  gently 
at  the  door  of  the  king.  The  loud  bark  of  a  dog  was  theii 
only  response,  and  again  all  was  still. 

"Evidently  there  is  no  one  there,"  sighed  Bischofswerder. 
"  It  is  the  hour  of  dining  of  the  king." 

"I  wish  it  were  ours  also,"  whined  Wollner.  "I  confer 
I  yearn  for  bodily  nourishment,  and  my  legs  sink  under 
me." 

"I  am  fearfully  hungry,"  groaned  Bischofswerder;  "be 
sides,  the  air  is  suffocating.  I  am  resolved  to  go  to  extremes^ 
and  make  a  noise." 

He  rushed  like  a  caged  boar  from  one  door  to  the  other, 
shrieking  for  the  lackey  to  open  the  door;  but  as  before,  a 
loud  bark  was  the  only  response. 

"The  Lord  has  forsaken  us,"  whimpered  Wollner.  "The 
sublime  Fathers  have  turned  their  faces  away  from  us.  We 
will  pray  for  mercy  and  beg  for  a  release!"  and  he  sank  upon 
his  knees. 

"  What  will  that  avail  us  here,  where  neither  prayers  nor 
devotion  are  heeded?  Only  energy  and  determination  will  aid 
us  at  Sans-Souci.  Come,  let  us  thump  and  bang  until  they 
set  us  free!"  cried  Bischofswerder,  peevishly. 

Their  hands  were  lame,  and  their  voices  hoarse  with  their 
exertions;  and  no  longer  able  to  stand,  they  sank  down  upon 
the  floor  hungry  and  exhausted,  almost  weeping  with  rage  and 
despair. 

At  last,  after  long  hours  of  misery,  they  heard  a  noise  in 
the  adjoining  room.  The  king  had  again  entered  his  cab- 
inet. The  door  opened,  and  the  lackey  motioned  to  the  two 
gentlemen  to  enter.  They  rose  with  difficulty  and  staggered 
into  the  room,  the  door  being  closed  behind  them. 

His  majesty  was  seated  in  his  arm-chair,  with  his  three- 
cornered  hat  on,  leaning  his  chin  upon  his  hands,  crossed 
upon  his  staff.  He  fixed  his  great  blue  eyes,  with  a  searching 
glance,  upon  the  two  Kosicrucians ;  then  turned  to  his  minis- 


THE  KING  AND  THE  ROSICRUCIANS.  377 

ter,  Herzberg,  who  was  seated  at  the  table   covered  with 
documents. 

"  These  are,  then,  the  two  great  props  of  the  Eosi crucians?" 
asked  Frederick — "  the  two  charlatans  whom  they  have  told 
me  make  hell  hot  for  the  crown  prince,  continually  lighting 
it  up  with  their  prayers  and  litanies." 

"Your  majesty,"  answered  Herzberg,  smiling,  "these  gen- 
tlemen are  Colonel  Bischofswerder  and  the  councillor  of  the 
exchequer,  Wollner,  whom  your  majesty  has  commanded  to 
appear  before  you." 

"  You  are  the  two  gentlemen  who  work  miracles,  and  have 
the  effrontery  to  summon  the  spirit  of  our  ancestor,  the  great 
elector,  and  the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius?" 

"  Sire,"  stammered  Bischofswerder,  "  we  have  tried  to  sum- 
mon spirits." 

"And  I  too,"  cried  the  king,  "only  they  will  not  come; 
therefore  I  wished  to  see  the  enchanters,  and  would  like  to 
purchase  the  secret." 

"Pardon  me,  most  gracious  sire,"  said  Wollner,  humbly, 
"  you  must  first  be  received  in  the  holy  order  of  the  Rosicru- 
cians. " 

"Thanks,"  cried  the  king,  "I  am  not  ready  for  the  like 
follies,  and  whilst  I  live  the  Invisibles  must  take  heed  not  to 
become  too  visible,  or  they  will  be  taken  care  of.  I  will  not 
permit  Prussia  to  retrograde.  It  has  cost  too  much  trouble  to 
enlighten  the  people,  bring  them  to  reason,  and  banish  hypoc- 
risy. Say  to  the  Kosicrucians  that  they  shall  leave  the  crown 
prince  in  peace,  or  I  will  chase  them  to  the  devil,  who  will 
receive  them  with  open  arms!  It  could  do  no  harm  to  appeal 
to  the  prince's  conscience  to  lead  an  honorable  life,  and  direct 
his  thoughts  more  to  study  than  to  love,  but  you  shall  not 
make  a  hypocrite  of  him  and  misuse  his  natural  good-nature. 
If  the  Rosicrucians  try  to  force  the  prince  and  rule  him,  I 
will  show  them  that  I  am  master,  and  will  no  longer  suffer 
their  absurdities,  but  will  break  up  the  whole  nest  of  them! 

I  have  been  much  annoyed  at  the  deep  despondency  of  the 
25 


378  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

crown  prince.  You  shall  not  represent  to  him  that  baseness 
and  virtue  are  the  same,  and  that  he  is  the  latter  when  he  be- 
trays those  to  whom  he  has  sworn  fidelity  and  affection.  An 
honorable  man  must,  above  all,  be  cognizant  of  benefits,  and 
not  forsake  those  who  have  sacrificed  their  honor  and  love  to 
him,  and  have  proved  their  fidelity.  Have  you  understood 
me,  gentlemen?" 

"  It  will  be  my  holy  duty  to  follow  strictly  your  majesty'^ 
commands,"  said  Bischofswerder. 

"And  I  also  will  strive  to  promote  the  will  of  my  king," 
asserted  Wollner. 

"  It  will  be  necessary  to  do  so,  or  you  two  gentlemen  may 
find  yourselves  at  Spandau.  I  would  say  to  you  once  for  all, 
I  will  not  suffer  any  sects ;  every  one  can  worship  God  in  his 
own  way.  No  one  shall  have  the  arrogant  presumption  to 
declare  himself  one  of  the  elect.  We  are  all  sinners.  The 
Eosicrucians  are  not  better  than  the  Illuminati  or  Free- 
masons, and  none  are  more  worthy  than  the  tailor  and  cob- 
bler who  does  his  duty.  Adieu !" 

The  king  nodded  quickly  and  pointed  to  the  door  out  of 
which  the  two  brothers  were  about  to  disappear,  when  he 
called  them  back. 

"  If  the  prince  is  not  at  the  palace  on  your  return,  I  advise 
you  not  to  pursue  him,  but  reflect  that  the  Invisibles  may 
have  summoned  him  to  a  communion  of  spirits;  I  believe,  too, 
that  I  kept  you  waiting;  but  without  doubt  you  were  com- 
forted by  the  Fathers,  who  bore  you  away  upon  their  wings, 
and  gave  you  food  and  drink !  Those  who  are  protected  by 
the  spirits,  and  can  summon  them  at  pleasure,  can  never 
want.  If  you  are  hungry,  call  up  the  departed  Lucullus,  that 
he  may  provide  for  you  to  eat ;  and  if  you  have  no  earthly 
seat,  summon  Semiramis  that  she  may  send  you  her  hanging 
gardens  for  the  quiet  repose  of  the  elect !  I  am  rejoiced  that 
you  have  enjoyed  such  celestial  refreshments  in  the  corridor. 
Adieu!" 

The  king  gazed  sadly  after  them.     Approaching  Herzberg, 


THE  KING  AND  THE  ROSICRUCIANS.  379 

he  said :  "  I  felt,  as  I  looked  at  the  two  rogues,  that  it  was  a 
pity  to  grow  old.  Did  you  think  that  I  would  let  them  off  so 
easily?" 

"Sire,  I  really  do  not  understand  you,"  replied  Herzberg, 
shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  I  know  not,  in  your  most  active 
youthful  days,  how  you  could  have  done  otherwise." 

"  I  will  tell  you  that,  if  I  were  not  an  old  man,  void  of 
decision  and  energy,  I  would  have  had  these  fellows  taken  to 
Spandau  for  life!"  said  the  king,  striking  the  table  with  his 
staff. 

"Your  mjaesty  does  yourself  injustice,"  said  Herzberg, 
smiling.  "  You  were  ever  a  just  monarch  in  your  most  ardent 
youth,  and  never  set  aside  the  law.  These  men  were  not 
guilty  of  any  positive  crime." 

"  They  are  daily  and  hourly  guilty  of  enticing  away  from 
me  the  crown  prince,  and  making  the  future  ruler  of  my 
country  an  obscurer,  a  necromancer,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
libertine !  I  was  obliged  to  overlook  his  youthful  preference 
for  Wilhelmine  Enke,  and  wink  at  this  amour,  for  I  know 
that  a  crown  prince  is  human,  and  his  affections  are  to  be 
consulted.  If  he  cannot  love  the  wife  which  diplomacy 
chooses  for  him,  then  he  must  be  permitted  the  chosen  one  of 
his  heart  to  console  him  for  the  forced  marriage.  At  the 
same  time  this  person  was  passable,  and  without  the  usual 
fault  of  such  creatures,  a  desire  to  rule  and  mingle  in  politics. 
She  seems  to  be  unambitious  and  unpretentious.  These  Eosi- 
crucians  would  banish  her  by  increasing  the  number  of  favor- 
ites, that  they  may  rule  him,  and  make  the  future  King  of 
Prussia  a  complete  tool  in  their  hands.  They  excite  his  mind, 
which  is  not  too  well  balanced,  and  rob  him  by  their  witch- 
craft of  the  intellect  that  he  has.  They  promise  him  to  find 
the  philosopher's  stone,  and  make  a  fool  of  him.  Am  I  not 
right?" 

"  I  must  acknowledge  that  you  are,"  sighed  Herzberg. 

"  And  admit  also  that  it  would  be  just  to  send  these  in' 
famous  fellows  as  criminals  to  Spandau." 


380  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"Sire,  unfortunately, there  are  crimes  and  offences  which 
the  law  does  not  reach,  and  which  cannot  be  judged." 

"  When  I  was  young,"  said  the  king,"  I  tore  up  and  stamped 
upon  every  weed  that  I  found  in  my  garden.  Shall  I  now  let 
these  two  grow  and  infect  the  air,  because  the  law  gives  me 
no  right  to  crush  them?  Formerly  I  would  have  torn  them 
leaf  from  leaf,  but  now  I  am  old  and  useless,  my  hand  is 
weak,  and  lacks  the  strength  to  uproot  them,  therefore  I 
suffer  them  to  stand,  and  all  the  other  abominable  things 
which  these  rogues  bring  to  pass.  A  cloud  is  rising,  from 
which  a  storm  will  one  day  burst  over  Prussia ;  but  I  cannot 
dissipate  it,  for  the  little  strength  and  breath  that  remains 
I  have  need  of  for  the  government;  and,  moreover,  I  have  no 
superfluous  time  for  the  future,  but  must  live  and  work  only 
for  the  present." 

"  But  the  blessing  of  your  exertions  will  be  felt  in  the 
future.  The  deeds  of  a  great  man  are  not  extinguished  with 
his  death,  but  shine  like  a  star,  disseminating  light  beyond 
his  grave!" 

"  This  light  is  just  what  the  Rosicrucians  will  take  care  to 
extinguish  like  a  tallow  candle  with  too  long  a  wick,  and  it  is 
good  fortune  that  the  astronomers  have  awarded  me  a  little 
glorification  in  the  heavens,  and  accorded  me  a  star,  for  the 
Eosicrucians  would  not  let  it  shine  here  below.  I  must  con- 
sole myself  with  this,  and  recall  that  when  it  is  dark  and 
lowering  here,  I  have  a  star  above  in  the  sky!" 

"  This  star  is  Frederick's  honor,"  cried  Herzberg.  "  It  will 
beam  upon  future  generations,  and  become  the  guiding  light 
of  the  sons  and  nephews  of  your  house,  and  they  will  learn  to 
be  as  sagacious  and  wise  as  the  Great  Frederick." 

"There  you  have  made  a  great  error,  Herzberg,"  replied 
the  king,  quickly.  "  Future  generations  are  never  taught  by 
the  past — grandchildren  think  themselves  wiser  than  their 
grandparents.  The  greatest  of  heroes  is  ..orgotten,  and  his 
deeds  buried  in  the  dnst  of  ages.  You  have  given  me  a 
glorious  title  of  honor,  and  I  know  how  little  I  deserve  it." 


ESPOUSALS.  381 

"  A  title  which  will  be  confirmed  in  centuries  to  come,  for 
every  history  will  speak  of  Frederick  the  Second  as  Frederick 
the  Great." 

"  In  history  it  may  be,  but  the  people  will  speak  of  me  as 
'Old  Fritz' — that  will  be  on  the  lips  of  those  who  love  me, 
and  expression  of  endearment ;  on  the  lips  of  those  who  hate 
me,  one  of  disaffection.  I  am,  indeed,  'Old  Fritz,'  which  the 
Bischofswerders  and  AVollners  also  call  me,  and  try  to  make 
the  crown  prince  believe  that  I  have  outlived  my  period,  and 
do  not  understand  or  esteem  the  modern  time.  In  their  eyes 
I  am  a  dismantled  ship  of  state,  which  the  storms  of  life  have 
rendered  unseaworthy.  They  would  refit  the  vessel,  and  give 
it  a  new  flag,  sending  Old  Fritz,  the  helmsman,  to  the  devil! 
The  day  of  my  death  they  will  hoist  this  flag,  with  'Modern 
Time '  inscribed  upon  it  in  large  letters.  I  shall  then  be 
united  in  Elysium  with  Voltaire,  Jordan,  Suhm,  and  all  my 
other  friends,  as  we  were  wont  to  be  at  Sans-Souci,  and  look 
down  with  a  pitying  smile  upon  the  Modern  Time  and  Old 
Folly!— Vale!" 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

THE   ESPOUSALS. 

BOTH  Bischofswerder  and  Wollner  hastened  to  avail  them- 
selves of  the  commanding  "adieu,"  and  quit  the  royal  pres- 
ence. Without,  the  carriage  was  ready  to  reconvey  them  to 
the  new  palace.  They  were  so  exhausted  that  neither  of 
them  uttered  a  word,  the  last  injunctions  of  the  king  ringing 
in  their  ears. 

Silently  thfey  alighted  upon  arriving,  but  as  the  footman 
came  out  to  meet  them  they  asked,  simultaneously,  if  his 
royal  highness  had  dined. 

"  His  highness  is  not  here,  having  departed  immediately  after 
the  two  gentlemen,  and  is  not  yet  returned,"  he  answered. 


382  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  You  may  serve  us  something  to  eat  as  quickly  as  possible 
in  the  little  dining-room.  Let  it  be  ready  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,"  commanded  Bischofswerder. 

"Now  that  we  are  alone,  what  do  you  think  of  this  affair?' 
asked  Wollner. 

"  I  cannot  vouchsafe  a  reply  until  I  have  eaten  a  pheasantV; 
wing,  and  drunken  my  champagne,"  replied  Bischofswerder. 

He  kept  his  word,  preserving  a  solemn  silence  until  a  good 
half  of  the  bird  had  disappeared,  and  many  glasses  of  iced 
champagne. 

Then  Bischofswerder  leaned  back  in  his  comfortable  arm- 
chair with  infinite  ease,  whilst  his  friend  occupied  himself 
-with  the  most  pious  zeal  with  the  pheasant,  rejoicing  at  this 
revelation  of  the  Invisibles.  Bischofswerder  let  him  enjoy  it, 
and  ordered  the  footman  to  serve  the  dessert  and  withdraw. 

"  Now  I  am  prepared  to  reply  to  you,  my  dear  friend,  that 
we  are  alone.  I  believe  the  king  would  have  sent  us  to  Span- 
dau  at  once  if  we  had  opposed  his  free-thinking  opinions." 

"  I  am  convinced  of  it,"  sighed  Wollner,  eying  the  remains 
of  the  bird  with  a  melancholy  glance.  "  We  shall  have  much 
to  endure  for  the  holy  cause  which  we  serve." 

"That  is  to  say,  we  will  have  much  to  suffer  if  we,  in 
fanatical  indiscretion,  do  not  submit  to  circumstances,"  said 
Bischofswerder. 

"You  cannot  traduce  the  sublime  Fathers!"  cried  Woll- 
ner;— "for  the  body's  security,  we  cannot  endanger  the  sal- 
vation of  our  souls,  and,  like  Peter,  deny  our  master." 

"  No,  my  much-loved  and  noble  friend.  But  we  must  be 
wise  as  serpents,  and  our  duty  to  the  holy  order  is  to  preserve 
its  useful  tools  that  they  may  not  be  lost.  You  will  agree 
with  me  in  this?" 

"Indeed,  I  do  admit  it,"  replied  Wollner,  pathetically. 

"  Further,  you  will  acknowledge  that  we  are  very  useful, 
and  I  might  say  indispensable  tools  of  the  Sublime  Order  of 
the  Rosicrucians  and  the  Invisible  Fathers  of  the  Order  of 
Jesus?  It  is  our  task  to  secure  an  abiding-place  to  the  pro- 


THE  ESPOUSALS.  383 

scribed  and  cursed,  to  plough  and  sow  the  field,  which  will 
yield  good  fruit  for  humanity  entire,  and  particularly  our 
order,  when  the  crown  prince  ascends  the  throne.  We  will 
here  erect  a  kingdom  of  the  future,  and  it  is  all-important  to 
lay  so  secure  a  corner-stone  in  the  heart  of  his  highness  that 
nothing  can  shake  or  dislodge  it.  Who  could  perfect  this 
work  if  we  were  not  here?  Who  would  dare  to  undertake  the 
difficult  task  if  we  should  fail?  Who  would  carry  on  a  secret 
and  continued  warfare  with  this  artful  and  powerful  seduct- 
ress if  we  were  conquered?" 

"No  one  would  do  it,"  sighed  Wollner,  "  no  one  would  sac- 
rifice themselves  like  Samson  for  this  Delilah." 

"We  will  together  be  the  Samson,"  replied  Bischofswerder, 
drawing  a  glass  of  sparkling  champagne.  "  We  will  be  the 
Samson  which  the  Philistines  drove  out,  but  this  woman  shall 
not  practise  the  arts  of  Delilah  upon  us  in  putting  our  eyes 
out  or  cutting  off  our  hair.  Against  two  Samsons  the  most 
artful  and  beautiful  Delilah  is  not  wary  enough;  and  if  we 
cannot  conquer  her,  we  must  resort  to  other  means." 

"  What  may  they  be,  dear  brother?" 

"We  must  compromise  the  matter." 

Wollner  sprang  up,  and  a  flush  of  anger  or  from  champagne 
overspread  his  face  "  Compromise  with  the  sinful  creature!" 
he  cried,  impetuously.  "  Make  peace  with  the  seductress, 
who  leads  the  prince  from  the  path  of  virtue!" 

"  Yes,  we  must  be  on  friendly  terms  with  this  woman,  who 
could  greatly  injure  us  as  an  enemy,  and  aid  us  infinitely  as  a 
friend.  This  is  my  intention,  and  I  am  the  more  convinced 
that  we  must  accept  this  middle  course,  as  she  is  protected  by 
the  king." 

"  Because  he  knows  from  his  spies  that  she  mingles  with 
the  Illuminati  and  the  Freemasons,  and  that  she  is  our  op- 
ponent," said  Wollner. 

"  The  more  the  reason,  my  noble  zealot,  to  win  her  friend- 
ship, who  will  have  validity  and  power  until  the  crown  prince 
reigns,  and  this  old  godless  freethinker  of  a  king  is  in  his 


384  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

grave !  Then  Prussia  will  commence  a  new  era,  and  we  shall 
be  lords,  and  guide  the  machine  of  state.  For  such  lofty  aims 
one  ought  to  be  ready  to  compromise  with  his  Satanic  majesty 
even.  Then  why  not  with  this  little  she-devil,  whose  power 
is  fading  every  year  with  her  youth  and  beauty?" 

"  It  is  quite  true,  we  should  be  mindful  of  the  device  of 
our  Invisible  Fathers.  The  end  sanctifies  the  means,"  sighed 
Wollner. 

"  I  believe  it  to  be  indispensable,  and  you  will  grant  that  I 
am  right.  Do  you  not  see  that  the  prince  has  availed  himself 
of  our  absence  to  go  there,  and  has  not  yet  returned?" 

"What!"  shrieked  Wollner,  clasping  his  hands — "you  do 
not  mean  that — " 

"  That  Rinaldo  has  returned  to  the  enchanted  garden  of 
Armida." 

"  Oh,  let  us  hasten  to  release  him  at  once,  and  rescue  his 
soul  from  perdition!"  cried  Wollner,  springing  up. 

"  On  the  contrary,  let  us  await  him  here  without  a  word  of 
reproach  upon  his  return.  This  will  touch  his  tender  heart 
which  we  must  work  upon,  if  we  would  get  him  into  our 
power,  for  to  us  he  must  belong.  Fill  our  glasses  with  the 
sparkling  wine,  and  drink  to  the  contract  with  Wilhelmine 
Enke." 

Just  as  merrily  they  quaffed  the  champagne  in  the  little 
cosy  dining-room  at  Charlottenburg,  where  the  prince  and 
Wilhelmine  were  rejoicing  over  a  reconciliation,  no  one  being 
present  but  the  two  children.  Their  joyous  laugh  and  inno- 
cent jests  delighted  the  father,  and  the  beaming  eyes,  sweet 
smile,  and  witty  conversation  of  his  favorite,  filled  his  heart 
with  pleasure. 

Not  a  word  of  reproach  escaped  her,  but  exultant  and  joy- 
ous she  hastened  with  outstretched  arms  to  meet  him,  kissing 
away  all  his  attempts  to  implore  pardon,  and  thanking  him 
that  he  had  returned  to  her. 

At  first  the  prince  gave  himself  up  to  the  joy  of  the  re- 
union with  his  beloved  Wilhelmine  and  children ;  but  now,  as 


THE  ESPOUSALS.  385 

the  first  outburst  had  passed,  the  quiet,  happy  dinner  being 
finished,  and  they  had  returned  to  the  sitting-room,  a  tinge 
of  melancholy  earnestness  overshadowed  his  amiable  face. 

Wilhelmine  threw  her  arms  gently  around  his  neck  as  she 
sat  beside  him  upon  the  divan,  and  looked  up  to  him  with  a 
tender  questioning  glance.  "  Your  thoughts  are  veiled,  dear- 
est; will  you  not  confide  to  me  that  which  lies  concealed 
there?" 

"  Ah,  Wilhelmine,  it  is  a  mourning  veil,  and  hides  the  sor- 
row of  renunciation." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  Frederick,"  she  smilingly  re- 
plied. "Who  could  compel  you  to  an  abnegation  which 
would  cause  you  grief?" 

"  Listen  to  me,  Wilhelmine,  and  understand  that  I  am 
suffering  from  circumstances — an  oath  taken  in  the  pressure 
of  the  moment.  Try  to  comprehend  me,  my  dear  child." 

Drawing  her  closer  to  him,  he  faithfully  related  to  her  the 
night  of  the  communion  of  the  spirits,  and  his  consequent 
oath. 

"  Is  that  all,  my  dear?"  she  replied,  smiling,  as  he  finished. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked,  astonished. 

"  Nothing  more  than  I  would  know  if  you  have  only  sworn 
to  renounce  Wilhelmine  Enke!" 

"What  could  I  have  done  more  prejudicial  to  you?"  he 
cried,  not  a  little  irritated. 

"  Surely  you  could  not  injure  or  grieve  me  more,  and  there- 
fore I  am  not  a  little  surprised  that  the  pious  Fathers  could 
so  carelessly  word  their  oaths.  You  have  sworn  to  renounce 
your  affection  to  and  separate  from  Wilhelmine  Enke;  so  it 
follows  that  the  Invisibles  only  demand  that  you  give  up  my 
name,  not  myself,  and  that  is  easily  changed,  and  my  dear 
prince  will  not  become  a  perjurer." 

"  I  do  not  quite  understand  you ;  but  I  perceive  by  the  arch 
expression  of  your  face  that  you  have  conceived  a  lucky  escape 
for  your  unhappy  Frederick  William.  Explain  to  me,  dear- 
est, your  meaning." 


386  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"I  must  change  my  name  by  marrying  some  one!"  she 
whispered. 

"  Marry!  and  I  give  you  to  another?  I  will  never  consent 
to  that,"  he  cried,  alarmed. 

"  Not  to  a  husband,  only  a  name,"  said  she.  "  These  Rosi- 
crucians  are  such  extraordinarily  virtuous  and  pure  beings, 
loving  you  so  infinitely  and  disinterestedly,  that  it  grieves 
them  that  my  love  for  you  does  not  shun  the  light,  and  throw 
over  itself  the  mantle  of  hypocritical  virtue !  We  will  yield 
to  the  zealous  purity  of  the  Rosicrucians, "  continued  Wilhel- 
mine,  her  eyes  sparkling,  "  and  wrap  this  Wilhelmine  Enke 
in  a  mantle  of  virtue  by  giving  her  a  husband ;  and  then, 
when  she  walks  out  with  her  children  the  passers-by  will  not 
have  to  blush  with  shame,  and  cry,  '  There  goes  the  miss  with 
her  children!'  I  have  conceived  and  planned  during  this 
long  and  painful  separation,  and  I  am  resolved  to  submit 
humbly  to  the  pious  Fathers,  who  are  so  zealously  watchful 
or  the  salvation  of  your  soul  and  my  good  fame." 

"  That  is  to  say,  you  are  determined  to  snap  your  fingers  at 
them !  Your  plan  is  a  good  one,  but  you  will  find  no  one  to 
aid  you  in  a  sham  marriage!" 

"I  have  already  found  one,"  whispered  Wilhelmine,  smil- 
ing. "  Your  valet  de  chambre  Rietz  is  willing  to  stand  with 
me  in  a  sham  marriage." 

"My  body-servant!" 

"  Yes,  Frederick  William !  You  will  confess  that  I  am  not 
ambitious,  and  only  consent  to  it  to  secure  our  happiness 
from  the  persecution  of  these  virtuous  men.  Here  is  the  con- 
tract," said  she,  drawing  from  her  dress-pocket  a  paper, 
which  she  unfolded.  "  He  promises  to  give  me  his  name,  and 
regard  me  as  a  stranger  always,  for  the  sum  of  four  hundred 
thalers  annually,  with  the  promise  of  promotion  to  confidential 
servant  when  the  noble  crown  prince  shall  ascend  the  throne.  * 
Will  you  sign  it?" 

"  I  will  do  any  thing  that  will  grant  me  your  affection,  in 

*  Historical.— See  F   Forster,  "Latest  Prussian  History,"  vol.  i.,  p.  74. 


THE  ESPOUSAI^.  387 

spite  of  my  unhappy  oath.  Give  me  the  paper.  I  will  sign 
it.  When  is  the  wedding?" 

"  The  moment  that  you,  my  dear  lord  and  master,  have  in- 
scribed your  name,"  said  Wilhelmine,  handing  him  the  pen, 
and  pointing  to  the  paper. 

The  prince  wrote  the  desired  signature,  quickly  throwing 
the  pen  across  the  room,  shouting,  "  Long  live  Wilhelmine 
Eietz,  who  has  rescued  me  from  perjury  and  sin!  Come  to 
my  arms,  outstretched  to  press  to  my  heart  the  most  beauti- 
ful, most  intelligent,  and  most  diplomatic  of  women!" 

Two  days  later  it  was  related  in  Berlin  that  Wilhelmine 
Enke  had  married  the  princely  valet  de  chambre  Eietz,  the 
crown  prince  being  present  at  the  ceremony,  which  took  place 
at  a  small  village  near  Potsdam. 

Under  the  head  of  marriages,  the  Berlin  newspapers  an- 
nounced "  Wilhelmine  Enke  to  Carl  Eietz." 

"Ah,  my  Eosicrucians,"  cried  Wilhelmine,  laughingly,  as 
she  read  this  notice,  a  mischievous  triumph  sparkling  in  her 
eyes ;  "  ah,  my  heroes  in  virtue,  for  once  you  are  outwitted, 
and  I  am  victorious!  I  would  like  to  witness  their  surprise. 
How  they  will  laugh  and  swear  over  it!  The  favorite  of  a 
prince  married  to  a  valet  de  chambre !  Wait  until  the  prince 
becomes  a  king,  then  Wilhelmine  Eietz  will  develop  into  a 
beautiful  butterfly,  and  the  wife  of  the  valet  de  chambre  will 
become  a  countess — nay,  a  princess.  The  Great  Kophta  has 
promised  it,  and  he  shall  keep  his  word.  I  wear  his  ring, 
which  sparkles  and  glistens,  although  the  jeweller  declares 
the  diamond  has  been  exchanged  for  a  false  stone.  No  mat- 
ter, if  it  only  shines  like  the  real  one.  Every  thing  earthly 
is  deception,  falsehood,  and  glitter.  Every  one  is  storming 
and  pressing  on  in  savage  eagerness  toward  fortune,  honor, 
and  fame !  I  will  have  my  part  in  it.  The  storm  and  press- 
ure of  the  world  rage  in  my  own  heart.  The  fire  of  ambition 
is  lighted  in  my  soul,  and  the  insatiable  thirst  for  fortune 
consumes  me.  Blaze  and  burn  until  the  day  that  Frederick 
William  ascends  the  throne;  then  the  low-born  daughter  of 


388  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

the  trumpeter  will  become  the  high-born  countess.  The  false 
stone  will  change  to  the  sparkling  diamond  and  Cagliostro 
shall  then  serve  me." 


CHAPTEE    XXXVIII. 

REVENGE   FULFILLED. 

SINCE  the  soiree  at  the  house  of  the  rich  banker,  Eben- 
streit,  an  entire  winter  had  passed  in  pleasures  and  fetes. 
The  position  of  Baron  Ebenstreit  von  Leuthen  had  been  rec- 
ognized in  aristocratic  society,  thanks  to  his  dinners,  soirees, 
balls,  fetes,  and  particularly  to  his  lovely,  spirited,  and  proud 
wife.  Herr  Ebenstreit  von  Leuthen  had  reached  the  acme  of 
his  ambition ;  his  house  was  the  resort  of  the  most  distin- 
guished society ;  the  extravagance  and  superb  arrangements  of 
his  dinners  and  fetes  were  the  theme  of  every  tongue.  This 
excessive  admiration  flattered  the  vain,  ambitious  parvenu  ex- 
tremely, and  it  was  the  happiest  day  of  his  life  when  Prince 
Henry  of  Prussia,  brother  of  Frederick  the  Great,  did  him 
the  unspeakable  honor  to  dine  with  him.  This  gratifying 
day  he  owed  to  his  wife,  and,  as  he  said,  it  ought  to  be  kept 
as  the  greatest  triumph  of  money  over  prejudice  and  eti- 
quette— the  day  upon  which  a  royal  prince  recognized  the 
rich  and  newly-created  noble  as  his  equal.  Ebenstreit's  en- 
trance into  the  highest  circle  of  aristocracy  was  due  to  the 
management  and  tone  of  the  world  of  his  wife,  who  under- 
stood the  elegancies  of  life,  passing  as  an  example  and  ideal 
of  an  elegant  woman,  of  which  her  husband  was  very  proud. 
He  lauded  his  original  and  crafty  idea  of  devoting  his  money 
to  such  a  satisfactory  purchase  as  a  sensible  and  ladylike  wife, 
although  the  union  was  not  a  happy  one,  and,  in  the  proper 
acceptation  of  the  word,  no  marriage  at  all. 

"Whilst  all  were  entertained  at  the  fetes,  and  envied  the 
splendor  and  wealth  of  Baron  von  Ebenstreit,  there  were 


REVENGE  FULFILLED.  389 

many  sinister  remarks  as  to  the  possibility  of  sustaining  this 
expenditure  upon  such  a  grand  scale.  It  was  whispered  about 
that  the  banking-house,  conducted  under  another  name,  had 
lost  in  extensive  speculations,  and  that  the  baron  lived  upon 
his  principal  instead  of  his  interest.  The  business  com- 
munity declared  that  the  firm  entered  into  the  most  daring 
and  senseless  undertakings,  and  that  it  must  go  to  ruin. 
The  old  book-keeper,  Splittgerber,  who  had  for  many  years 
conducted  the  business,  had  been  pensioned  by  the  baron, 
and  commenced  for  himself.  His  successor  had  once  vent- 
ured to  warn  the  nobleman,  and  represent  to  him  the  danger 
which  threatened  him,  for  which  he  was  immediately  dis- 
missed, and  the  fact  communicated  to  the  entire  house,  at 
a  special  assemblage  of  the  clerks  for  the  purpose,  with  the 
warning  of  a  like  fate  for  every  subordinate  who  should  pre- 
sume to  criticise  the  acts  of  the  principals,  or  proffer  advice  to 
them.  Since  this  no  one  had  ventured  to  repeat  the  offence, 
but  every  member  of  the  house  occupied  himself  in  drawing 
a  profit  from  the  general  and  daily  increasing  confusion,  and 
save  something  from  the  wreck  which  would  inevitably  ensue. 
The  baron,  with  pretentious  unconcern,  dazzled  by  his  un- 
usual honors,  permitted  his  business  affairs  to  take  their 
course  with  smiling  unconcern,  and  when  unsuccessful,  to 
hide  the  mistakes  of  the  banker  under  the  pomp  of  the  baron. 

Marie,  indulging  in  the  style  of  a  great  lady,  appeared  not 
to  notice  or  trouble  herself  at  all  about  these  things.  She 
entertained  most  luxuriantly,  and  spent  enormous  sums  upon 
her  toilet,  changed  the  costly  livery  of  her  numerous  retinue 
of  servants  every  month,  as  well  as  the  furniture  of  the 
drawing-rooms;  and  presented  with  generous  liberality  her 
superfluous  ornaments,  dresses,  and  furniture  to  her  dear 
high-born  friends,  who  greedily  accented  them,  and  were 
overflowing  in  their  tender  protestations  and  gratitude,  whilst 
they  in  secret  revolted  at  the  presumption  of  the  arrogant 
woman,  who  permitted  herself  to  send  them  her  cast-off  things. 

They  rejoiced  to  receive  them,  however,  and  reappeared  in 


390  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

her  splendid  drawing-rooms,  enduring  the  pride  and  neglect 
of  the  baroness,  and  calling  her  their  dear  friend,  whom  they 
in  secret  envied  and  hated. 

Did  Marie  know  this,  or  did  she  let  herself  he  deceived  by 
these  friendly  protestations?  Occasionally,  when  her  friends 
embraced  and  kissed  her,  a  languid  smile  flitted  over  her 
haughty  face ;  and  once  as  she  wandered  through  the  suite  of 
rooms,  awaiting  her  guests,  she  caught  the  reflection  of  a 
beautiful  woman  in  the  costly  Venetian  mirrors,  sparkling 
with  diamonds  and  wearing  a  silver-embroidered  dress  with  a 
train.  She  gazed  at  this  woman  with  an  expression  of  in- 
effable scorn,  and  whispered  to  her :  "  Suffer  yet  awhile,  you 
shall  soon  be  released.  This  miserable  trash  will  disappear. 
Only  be  firm — I  hear  already  the  cracking  of  the  house  which 
will  soon  fall  a  wreck  at  your  feet!" 

Others  heard  it  also.  As  preparations  were  being  made  for 
a  grand  dinner,  with  which  the  Baron  and  Baroness  von 
Ebenstreit  would  close  the  season,  the  former  head  book- 
keeper of  the  baron  appeared  at  the  palace,  demanding,  with 
anxious  mien,  to  see  the  principal. 

Just  at  the  moment  the  baron  and  his  wife  were  in  the 
large  reception-room,  which  the  decorator  was  splendidly  ar- 
ranging, under  the  direction  of  the  baroness,  with  flowers, 
festoons,  columns,  and  statues.  Ebenstreit  was  watching 
admiringly  the  tasteful  and  costly  display  as  the  footman 
announced  the  former  book-keeper  and  present  banker,  Splitt- 
gerber. 

"He  must  come  at  another  time,"  cried  Ebenstreit,  im- 
patiently, "  I  am  busy  now;  I — " 

"Excuse  me,  baron,"  replied  an  earnest,  gentle  voice  be- 
hind him,  "  that   I  have   followed   the  lackey  and  entered . 
unbidden.     I  come  on  urgent  business,  and  I  must  indeed 
speak  with  you  instantly!" 

"Be  brief  then,  at  least,"  cried  Ebenstreit,  peevishly. 
"  You  see  that  my  wife  is  here,  and  we  are  very  busy  arrang- 
ing for  a  grand  dinner  to-day." 


REVENGE  FULFILLED.  391 

Herr  Splittgerber,  instead  of  replying,  cast  a  peculiarly 
sad,  searching  glance  through  the  beautifully-adorned  room, 
and  at  the  two  lackeys,  who  stood  on  each  side  of  the  wide 
folding -doors. 

"  Permit  that  these  servants  withdraw,  and  order  them  to 
close  the  doors,"  said  the  book-keeper,  almost  commandingly. 
Ebenstreit,  overruled  by  the  solemn  earnestness,  obeyed 
against  his  will. 

"Would  you  like  me  to  leave  also,  sir?"  said  Marie,  with  a 
calm,  haughty  manner.  "  You  have  only  to  ask  it  and  the 
baron  will,  undoubtedly,  accord  your  request." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  beg  you  to  remain,"  quietly  replied 
Splittgerber,  "  for  what  I  have  to  say  concerns  you  and  your 
husband  equally." 

"  Now,  then,  I  beg  you  to  say  it  quickly,"  cried  Ebenstreit, 
impatiently;  "I  repeat,  that  we  are  very  busy  with  preparing 
for  to-day's  festival." 

"  You  will  not  give  any  f6te  to-day,"  said  Splittgerber, 
solemnly. 

Ebenstreit,  cringing  and  frightened,  gazed  at  the  old  man. 
who  looked  sadly  at  him. 

The  baroness  laughed  aloud,  sneeringly.  "  My  dear  sir, 
your  tone  and  manner  remind  me  of  the  wicked  spirit  at  the 
horrible  moment  in  the  story  when  he  comes  to  demand  the 
bartered  soul,  and  the  enchanted  castle  falls  a  wreck!" 

"  Your  comparison  is  an  apt  one,  baroness,"  sighed  the  old 
man. — "  I  came  to  you,  baron,  because  I  loved  your  father.  I 
have  served  your  house  thirty  years,  and  amassed  the  little  I 
had  to  commence  business  with  in  your  service.  Moreover, 
when  you  so  suddenly  dismissed  me,  you  not  only  gave  me  my 
salary  as  a  pension,  but  you  funded  the  annuity  with  a  con- 
siderable sum,  which  makes  me,  through  your  house,  in- 
dependent in  means." 

"  You  may  thank  my  wife  for  that.  She  demanded,  when 
I  dismissed  you,  that  I  should  compensate  you  with  the  liber- 
ality of  a  true  nobleman." 


392  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"Oh,  would  that  you  had  not  done  it,  baroness!"  cried 
Splittgerber — "  would  that  you  had  permitted  the  old  faithful 
pioneer  in  the  business  to  remain  by  your  husband!  He 
might  have  warded  off  this  misfortune  and  saved  you  by  his 
experience  and  advice." 

"For  this  very  reason  I  demanded  your  removal.  You 
permitted  yourself  to  proffer  advice  which  I  felt  did  not  be- 
come you,"  replied  Marie,  with  a  strange  smile  of  triumph. 

"And,  I  repeat,  would  that  you  had  not  done  it!"  sighed 
the  old  man.  "  I  came  to  warn  you,  to  conjure  you,  to  save 
yourselves — to  flee  while  there  is  yet  time." 

"Oh,  mercy!  what  has  happened?"  cried  Ebenstreit,  ter- 
rified. 

"  The  banking-house  of  Ebenstreit,  founded  under  the 
name  of  Ludwig,  associated  with  Ehlert  of  Amsterdam,  four 
months  since,  to  buy  and  load  ships  for  the  Calcutta  market. 
Herr  Ebenstreit  gathered  together  the  last  wrecks  of  his  for- 
tune remaining  from  his  ruinous  speculations,  to  win  enor- 
mously in  this  investment.  Besides,  he  indorsed  the  notes  of 
the  Amsterdam  house  for  the  sum  of  eighty  thousand  dollars, 
which  has  been  drawn,  so  that  their  notes  are  protested  there. 
Herr  Ebenstreit  will  have  to  pay  this  sum!" 

"What  else?"  asked  Ebenstreit,  almost  breathless. 

"  The  house  of  Ehlert,  in  Amsterdam,  has  failed ;  the  prin- 
cipal has  fled  with  the  coffers ;  the  notes  for  eighty  thousand 
dollars  were  protested,  and  you,  baron,  must  pay  this  sum  to- 
day, or  declare  yourself  a  bankrupt,  and  go  to  prison  for 
debt." 

Instantaneously  a  suppressed  cry  and  a  laugh  were  heard. 
Ebenstreit  sank  upon  a  seat,  concealing  his  pallid  face  with 
his  hands,  while  Marie  stood  at  his  side,  her  face  beaming 
with  joy. 

"  I  am  lost,  I  do  not  possess  the  eighth  part  of  that  sum ! 
I  cannot  pay  it.  I  must  submit,  for  there  are  no  further 
means  to  prevent  it." 

"No,"  replied  Marie,  with  haughty  tranquillity,  "you  have 


REVENGE  FULFILLED.  393 

no  further  means  to  prevent  it.  The  rich  banker  Ebenstreit 
will  leave  this  house,  no  longer  his  own,  to  enter  the  debtor's 
prison  poor  as  a  beggar — nay,  worse,  a  defrauder!" 

"  Oh,  how  cruel  you  are!"  groaned  Ebenstreit. 

"  Did  you  say,  baroness,  that  this  house  is  no  longer  his?" 
asked  Splittgerber,  alarmed. 

"No,"  she  triumphantly  cried.  " It  belongs  to  me,  and  all 
that  is  in  it — the  pictures,  statues,  silver,  diamonds,  and 
pearls.  Oh,  I  am  still  a  rich  woman!" 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  retain  this  wealth  if  your  husband 
becomes  bankrupt?  Do  you  not  possess  a  common  interest?" 
asked  Splittgerber. 

"  No,  thank  Heaven,  the  community  of  interest  was  given 
up  a  year  since,"  cried  Ebenstreit,  joyfully.  "Baroness  von 
Ebenstreit  is  the  lawful  possessor  of  this  house  and  furniture. 
I  was  not  so  indiscreet  as  you  supposed.  I  have  at  least  se- 
cured this  to  my  wife,  and  she  will  be  a  rich  Avoman  even  if  I 
fail,  and  will  not  let  me  starve.  I  shall  divide  about  ten  per 
cent,  with  my  creditors,  but  my  wife  will  be  rich  enough  for 
us  both." 

"  This  gives  me  to  understand  that  you  intend  to  make  a 
fraudulent  bankruptcy.  You  have  settled  every  thing  upon 
your  wife  to  save  yourself  from  the  unhappy  consequences  of 
your  failure.  You  will  still  be  a  rich  man  if  your  wife  should 
sell  her  house,  works  of  art,  diamonds,  gold  and  silver  service, 
and  equipages." 

"Yes,  indeed,  a  very  rich  man,"  said  Marie.  "  In  the  last 
few  weeks  I  have  had  my  property  estimated,  and  it  would  at 
least  bring  three  hundred  thousand  dollars." 

"  If  the  baron  only  possessed  this,  he  could  pay  his  creditors, 
and^have  a  small  amount  over,  sufficient  to  live  upon  economi- 
cally and  genteelly.  But  you  would  rather  enjoy  splendor, 
and  are  not  particular  about  living  honorably.  You  will  un- 
doubtedly sell  your  property,  and  go  to  Paris,  to  revel  in 
luxury  and  pleasure,  while  your  defrauded  creditors  may, 
through  you.  come  to  poverty  and  want. — Baron,  I  now  sae 
26 


394  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

that  your  wife  did  well  to  bring  about  my  removal.  I  should 
have,  above  all  things,  given  you  the  unwelcome  advice  to 
sustain  your  honor  unblemished,  and  dispose  of  your  costi^ 
surroundings  for  the  benefit  of  your  creditors,  that  when  you 
die  it  may  be  with  a  clear  conscience.  You  prefer  a  life  of 
luxury  and  ease,  rocking  your  conscience  to  sleep  until  God 
will  rouse  it  to  a  fearful  awaking.  But  do  as  you  like.  I 
came  here  to  offer  you  assistance,  thinking  that  you  would 
dispose  of  this  property,  and  after  paying  your  creditors  have 
sufficient  to  live  upon.  Then  I  could  be  permitted  to  prove 
my  fidelity  to  you.  I  now  see  that  I  was  a  fool.  Yet  in  part- 
ing I  will  still  beg  of  you  to  avoid  the  unfavorable  impression 
of  this  dinner.  The  bill  of  exchange  will  be  presented  at  four 
o'clock,  and  the  bearer  will  not  be  satisfied  with  the  excuse 
of  your  non-payment  on  account  of  dinner-company.  You 
will  be  obliged  to  settle  at  once  or  be  arrested.  I  have  learned 
this  from  your  chief  creditor,  and  I  begged  him  to  have  for- 
bearance for  you.  I  shall  now  justify  him  in  showing  you 
none,  as  you  do  not  deserve  it! — Farewell!" 

The  old  book-keeper  turned  with  a  slight  nod,  and  strode 
away  through  the  drawing-room. 

"Have  you  nothing  to  say  to  him?  Will  you  let  him  go 
thus?"  asked  Marie,  impetuously. 

"Nothing  at  all.  What  should  I  say?"  he  replied,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders. 

"Then  I  will  speak  with  him."  Marie  called  loudly  after 
Splittgerber,  saying,  "  I  have  a  word  to  speak  to  you." 

The  book-keeper  remained  standing  near  the  door,  and 
turning  with  downcast  face,  demanded  of  Marie  what  she 
wished. 

"I  have  something  to  tell  you,"  she  replied,  with  her 
usual  tranquil,  proud  demeanor,  approaching  Splittgerber, 
who  regarded  her  with  severity  and  contempt,  which  she  met 
with  a  gentle,  friendly  expression,  a  sweet  smile  hovering  on 
ner  lips. 

Marie  came  close  up  to  the  old  man.  who  awaited  her  with 


REVENGE  FULFILLED.  395 

haughty  defiance,  and  never  advanced  one  step  to  meet  her — 
a  lady  spendidly  bedecked  with  diamonds  and  gold-embroid- 
ered satin.  She  whispered  a  few  words  in  his  ear.  He 
started,  and,  astonished,  looked  into  her  face,  as  if  question- 
ing what  he  heard.  She  nodded,  smiling,  and  bent  again  to 
say  a  few  words. 

Suddenly  Splittgerber  seemed  metamorphosed.  His  gloomy- 
face  brightened  a  little,  and  his  insolent  glance  was  changed 
to  one  of  deep  emotion.  Bowing  profoundly  as  he  held  the 
baroness's  proffered  hand  to  take  leave,  he  pressed  it  most  re- 
spectfully to  his  lips. 

"  You  will  return  in  an  hour?"  Marie  asked. 

"Yes;  I  shall  seek  the  gentlemen,  and  bring  them  with 
me,"  he  graciously  replied. 

"Thanks;  I  will  then  await  you." 

Splittgerber  departed,  and  Marie  returned  to  Ebenstreit 
who,  amazed,  muttered  some  unintelligible  words,  having  lis- 
tened to  her  mysterious  conversation  with  the  old  book-keeper. 

"Now  to  you,  sir!"  said  she,  her  whole  tone  and  manner 
changing  to  harsh  command ;  "  the  hour  for  settling  our  ac- 
counts has  arrived — the  hour  that  I  have  awaited,  purchasing 
it  by  four  years  of  torture,  self-contempt,  and  despair.  This 
comedy  is  at  an  end.  I  will  buy  of  you  my  freedom.  Do  you 
hear  me?  I  will  cast  off  these  galley-chains.  I  will  be  free!" 

"Oh,  Marie!"  he  cried,  retreating  in  terror,  "with  what 
fearful  detestation  you  regard  me!" 

"  Do  you  wonder  at  it?  Have  I  ever  concealed  this  hate 
from  you,  or  ever  given  you  hope  to  believe  that  a  reconcil- 
iation would  be  possible  between  us?" 

"  No,  truly  you  have  not,  but  now  you  will  forgive  me,  for 
you  know  how  I  love  you,  and  have  provided  for  your  future. 
You  will  remain  rich,  and  I  shall  be  poor." 

Marie  regarded  him  with  unspeakable  contempt.  "  You 
are  more  despicable  than  I  thought  you  were.  You  do  not 
deserve  forbearance  or  pity,  for  you  are  a  dishonorable  b?nK- 
rupt,  who  cares  not  how  much  others  may  suffer,  provided 


896  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

his  '"hire  is  secured.  I  will  not,  however,  suffer  the  name 
which  I  have  borne  againpt  my  will,  to  be  defamed  and  be- 
come a  mark  for  scorn.  I  will  compel  you  to  remain  an  hon- 
est man,  and  be  just  to  your  creditors.  I  propose  to  pay  the 
bills  of  exchange,  which  will  be  presented  to  you  to-day,  pro- 
vided you  will  consent  to  my  conditions." 

"Oh,  Marie,  you  are  an  angel!"  he  cried,  rushing  toward 
her  and  kneeling  at  her  feet.  "  I  will  do  all  that  you  wish, 
and  consent  to  every  thing  you  propose." 

"  Will  you  swear  it?"  she  coldly  replied. 

"  I  swear  that  I  accept  your  conditions." 

"  Bring  the  writing-materials  from  the  window-niche,  and 
seat  yourself  by  this  table." 

Ebenstreit  brought  them,  and  seated  himself  by  the  Floren- 
tine mosaic  table,  near  which  Marie  was  standing. 

She  drew  from  her  pocket  a  paper,  which  she  unfolded  and 
placed  before  him  to  sign.  "  Sign  this  with  your  full  name, 
and  add,  'With  my  own  free  will  and  consent,'"  she  com- 
mandingly  ordered  him. 

"But  you  will  first  make  known  to  me  the  contents?" 

"  You  have  sworn  to  sign  it,"  she  said,  "  and  unless  you  ac- 
cept my  conditions,  you  are  welcome  to  be  incarcerated  for 
life  in  the  debtor's  prison.  You  have  only  to  choose.  If  you 
decide  in  the  negative,  I  will  exert  myself  that  your  creditors 
do  not  free  you.  I  should  trust  in  the  justice  of  God  having 
sent  you  there,  and  that  man  in  miserable  pity  should  not  act 
against  His  will  in  freeing  you.  Now  decide;  will  you  sign 
the  paper,  or  go  to  prison  as  a  dishonorable  bankrupt?" 

He  hastily  seized  the  pen  and  wrote  his  name,  handing  the 
paper  to  Marie,  sighing. 

"  You  have  forgotten  to  add  the  clause,  '  With  my  own  free 
will  and  consent, '  "  she  replied, hastily  glancing  at  it, letting  the 
paper  drop  like  a  wilted  leaf,  and  her  eyes  flashing  with  scorn. 

Ebenstreit  saw  it,  and  as  he  again  handed  her  the  paper, 
he  exclaimed,  "  I  read  in  your  eyes  the  intense  hate  you  be^r 
me." 


REVENGE  FULFILLED.  397 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  composedly,  "not  only  hate,  but  scorn. 
Hush !  no  response.  You  knew  it  long  before  I  was  forced  to 
stand  at  the  altar  with  you.  I  warned  you  not  to  unite  your- 
self to  me,  and  you  had  the  impious  audacity  to  defy  me  with 
your  riches.  The  seed  of  hate  which  you  then  sowed,  you 
may  to-day  reap  the  fruits  of.  You  shall  recognize  now  that 
money  is  miserable  trash,  and  that  when  deprived  of  it  you 
will  never  win  sympathy  from  your  so-called  friends,  but  they 
will  turn  from  you  with  contempt,  when  you  crave  their  pity 
or  aid." 

"I  think  that  you  exaggerate,  dearest,"  said  Ebenstreit, 
fawningly.  "  You  have  many  devoted  friends  among  the 
ladies,  and  I  can  well  say  that  I  have  found,  among  the  dis- 
tinguished gentlemen  who  visit  our  house,  many  noble,  ex- 
cellent ones  who  have  met  me  with  a  warmth  of  friendship — " 

"  Because  they  would  borrow  money  of  the  rich  man,"  in- 
terrupted Marie. 

"  Of  course  my  coffers  have  always  been  accessible  to  my 
dear  friends,  and  I  prized  the  honor  of  proving  my  friendship 
by  my  deeds." 

"  You  will  realize  to-day  how  they  prove  their  gratitude  to 
you  for  it.  Go,  receive  the  good  friends  whom  you  have  in- 
vited. It  is  time  that  they  were  here,  and  I  perceive  the 
carriages  are  approaching." 

Marie  motioned  to  the  door,  with  a  dictatorial  wave  of  her 
hand,  and  Ebenstreit  betook  himself  to  the  reception-room. 
Just  as  he  crossed  the  threshold,  the  usher  announced  "  Herr 
Gedicke!"  Ebenstreit  greeted  him  hastily  in  passing,  and 
the  old  man  went  on  to  meet  the  baroness,  who  was  hastening 
toward  him. 

"  You  have  most  graciously  mvited  me  to  your  house  to-day, 
and  you  will  excuse  me  that  my  earnest  wish  to  see  you  has 
brought  me  earlier  than  any  other  guest." 

"  I  begged  you  to  come  a  quarter  of  an  hour  sooner,  for  1 
would  gladly  speak  with  you  alone  a  few  moments." 

"  I  thought  so,  and  hastened  up  here." 


398  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  Did  not  my  old  Trude  go  to  see  you  some  days  since?" 
asked  Marie,  timidly. 

"  She  did,  and  you  can  well  understand  that  I  was  much 
affected  and  surprised  at  her  visit.  I  thought  that  you  had 
forgotten  me,  baroness,  and  that  every  souvenir  of  the  past 
had  fled  from  your  memory.  I  now  see  that  your  noble, 
faithful  heart  can  never  forget,  and  therefore  has  never  ceased 
to  suffer,  which  I  ought  to  regret,  for  your  sake,  but  for  my 
own  it  pleased  me  to  receive  your  kind  greeting." 

Marie  pressed  her  hand  to  her  eyes  and  sighed  audibly. 
"  Pray  do  not  speak  so  gently  to  me — it  enervates  me,  and  I 
would  force  myself  to  endure  to-day.  Only  tell  me,  did 
Trude  communicate  to  you  my  wishes,  and  will  it  be  possible 
for  you  to  fulfil  them?" 

"  Your  brave,  good  friend  brought  me  a  thousand  dollars, 
praying  me  to  convey  this  to  Herr  Moritz  in  order  to  defray 
the  expenses  of  a  journey  to  Italy." 

"  Have  you  accomplished  it,  and  in  such  a  manner  that  he 
does  not  suspect  the  source  from  whence  it  came?  He  would 
not  receive  it  if  he  had  the  least  suspicion  of  it.  I  have  seen 
him  secretly  several  times  as  he  passed  to  and  fro  from  the 
Gymnasium,  and  he  appeared  to  me  to  grow  paler  and  more 
languid  every  day." 

"  It  is  true  that  since  you  have  come  back  he  has  changed. 
The  old  melancholy  seems  to  have  returned." 

"  He  needs  distraction ;  he  must  go  away  and  forget  me.  It 
has  always  been  his  earnest  wish  to  travel  in  Italy.  You  must 
tell  him  that  you  have  succeeded  in  getting  the  money  for  him." 

"  I  bethought  myself  of  Moritz's  publisher,  represented  to 
him  how  necessary  it  was  for  the  health  of  Professor  Moritz 
to  travel,  begged  of  him  to  order  a  work  upon  Italy,  and  par- 
ticularly the  works  of  art  of  Eome,  and  propose  to  Moritz  the 
acceptance  of  the  money  for  that  object,  as  he  was  quite  too 
proud  to  receive  it  as  a  present." 

"That  was  an  excellent  idea,"  cried  Marie.  "Has  it  been 
accomplished?" 


REVENGE  FULFILLED.  399 

"  Yes,  as  Herr  Maurer  made  the  proposal,  and  Moritz  re- 
plied, sighing,  that  he  had  not  the  means  for  such  a  journey, 
the  publisher  immediately  offered  him  half  of  the  remuner- 
ation in  advance ;  consequently  he  starts  to-morrow  for  Italy, 
unknowing  of  the  thousand  dollars  being  your  gift."  * 

"  How  much  I  thank  you!"  she  joyfully  cried.  "Moritz  is 
saved;  he  will  now  recover,  and  forget  all  his  grief  in  study- 
ing the  objects  of  interest  in  the  Eternal  City." 

"  Do  you  really  believe  that?"  asked  Herr  Gedicke.  "  Were 
you  not  also  in  Italy?" 

"  I  was  indeed  there  two  years,  but  it  was  very  different 
with  me.  It  is  difficult  to  forget  you  are  a  slave,  when  listen- 
ing all  the  while  to  the  clanking  of  your  chains." 

"  My  poor  child,  I  read  with  sorrow  the  history  of  the  past 
years  in  your  grief-stricken  face.  It  is  the  first  time  we  have 
met  since  your  marriage." 

"  See  what  these  years  have  made  of  me ! — a  miserable  wife, 
yhom  the  world  esteems,  but  who  recoils  from  herself.  My 
heart  has  changed  to  stone,  and  I  feel  metamorphosed.  The 
sight  of  you  recalls  that  fearful  hour,  melting  my  heart  and 
causing  the  tears  to  flow.  At  that  time  you  blessed  me,  my 
friend  and  father.  Oh,  grant  me  your  blessing  again  in  this 
hour  of  sorrow !  I  implore  you  for  it,  before  an  important 
decision!  I  long  for  the  sympathy  of  a  noble  soul!" 

"  I  know  not,  my  child,  with  what  grief  this  hour  may  be 
]aden  for  you ;  but  I  lay  my  hand  again  upon  your  head,  im- 
ploring God  in  His  divine  mercy  to  sustain  you!" 

"  Countess  von  Moltke  and  Frau  von  Morien!"  announced 
the  usher.  In  brilliant  toilets  the  ladies  rustled  in,  hastening 
toward  the  baroness,  who  had  now  regained  her  wonted  com- 
posure, and  received  them  in  her  usual  stately  manner. 

"How  perfectly  charming  you  look  to-night!"  cried 
Countess  Moltke.  "  To  me  you  are  ever  the  impersonation  of 
the  goddess  of  wealth  and  beauty  strewing  everywhere  with 

*  This  work,  which  was  published  after  his  return,  still  excites  the  highest  in- 
terest, and  is  entitled  "Travels  of  a  German  in  Italy  during  1786  and  1787. —Letters 
of  Philip  Carl  Moritz,"  3  vols.,  Berlin,  published  by  Frederick  Maurer. 


400  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

lavish  generosity  yonr  gifts,  and  turning  every  thing  to  gold 
with  your  touch. " 

"But  whose  heart  has  remained  tender  and  gentle,"  added 
Frau  von  Morien. — "You  are  indeed  a  goddess,  always  en- 
hancing the  pleasures  of  others.  To-day  I  wear  the  beautiful 
bracelet  which  you  sent  me  because  I  admired  it." 

"And  I,  ma  toute  belle,"  cried  the  countess,  "have  adorned 
myself  with  this  superb  gold  brocade  which  you  so  kindly 
had  sent  from  Paris  for  me." 

"  You  have  forgotten,  countess,  that  you  begged  of  me  to 
give  the  order  for  you." 

"  Ah,  that  is  true!     Then  I  am  your  debtor." 

"  If  you  are  not  too  proud  to  receive  it  as  a  present?" 

"Oh,  most  certainly  not;  on  the  contrary,  I  thank  you, 
my  dear. — Tell  me,  my  dear  Morien,  is  not  this  woman  an 
angel?" 

At  this  instant  the  French  ambassador,  Marquis  Treves, 
appeared  among  the  numerous  guests,  whom  the  baroness 
stepped  quickly  forward  to  welcome,  withdrawing  with  him 
into  the  window-niche. 

"Welcome,  marquis,"  she  said,  quickly,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  Have  you  brought  me  the  promised  papers?" 

Drawing  a  sealed  packet  from  his  coat-pocket,  he  handed 
it  to  the  baroness  with  a  low  bow,  saying :  "  I  would  draw 
your  attention  to  the  fact  once  more,  dear  madam,  that  I 
have  abided  by  the  price  named  by  yourself,  in  making  this 
sale,  although  I  am  still  of  the  opinion  that  it  is  below  its 
value." 

"  The  sum  is  sufficient  for  my  wants,  and  I  rated  its  value 
according  as  it  is  taxed." 

"  There  are  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  bills  of  exchange, 
payable  at  the  French  embassy  at  any  moment,"  said  the 
marquis. 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  for  this  proof  of  friendly  attention ;  and 
as  it  may  be  the  last  time  we  meet,  I  would  assure  you  that  I 
shall  always  remember  your  many  and  thoughtful  kindnesses." 


REVENGE  FULFILLED.  40} 

"  Yon  speak,  baroness,  as  if  you  would  forsake  the  circle 
of  which  you  are  the  brightest  ornament." 

"No,  the  friends  will  forsake  me,"  she  replied,  with  a 
peculiar  smile.  "  Ere  an  hour  shall  pass  not  one  of  all  these 
numerous  guests  will  remain  here. — Ah,  there  comes  the  de- 
cision! See  there,  marquis!" 

The  usher  announced  "Banker  Splittgerber."  The  old 
man  entered  followed  by  two  men  of  not  very  presentable 
appearance,  and  whose  toilet  was  but  little  in  keeping  with 
the  brilliantly-decorated  room  and  the  aristocratic  guests. 

Never  heeding  the  sneers  nor  contemptuous  smiles,  the 
faithful  book-keeper  wound  his  way,  through  the  crowd  of 
elegantly  dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen,  accompanied  by  the 
two  men,  up  to  Ebenstreit,  who,  with  instinctive  politeness, 
had  placed  himself  near  Marie. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Splittgerber,  in  a  loud  .voice,  "this  is 
Baron  Ebenstreit  von  Leuthen,  principal  of  the  banking- 
house  Ludwig." 

The  two  gentlemen  approached,  one  of  them  saying,  "  They 
sent  us  here  from  your  office." 

"This  is  not  the  place  for  business,"  replied  Ebenstreit. 
"Follow  me!" 

"No,  gentlemen,  remain  here,"  cried  Marie.  "Our  guests 
present  are  such  intimate,  devoted  friends  that  we  have  noth- 
ing to  conceal  from  them ;  but  on  the  contrary,  I  am  con- 
vinced they  will  only  be  too  happy  of  the  occasion  to  prove 
their  friendship,  of  which  they  have  so  often  assured  us. — 
These  gentlemen  demand  the  payment  of  a  bill  of  exchange 
for  eighty  thousand  dollars.  Take  my  portfolio,  Ebenstreit; 
there  is  a  pencil  in  it.  Go  around  and  make  a  collection ; 
undoubtedly  the  entire  sum  will  be  soon  noted  down." 

Ebenstreit  approached  the  Baron  von  Frankenstein,  saying: 
"  Pardon  me  if  I  recall  to  your  memory  the  sum  of  one  thou- 
sand louis  d'ors,  due  for  four  black  horses  three  months 
since." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  cried  the  baron,  "  this  is  a  strange  manner 


402  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

to  collect  one's  debts.  We  were  invited  to  a  feast,  and  a  pis- 
tol is  pointed  at  us,  demanding  our  debts  to  be  cancelled!" 

"How  strange!  How  ridiculous!"  heard  one  here  and 
there  among  the  guests,  as  they,  with  one  accord,  pressed 
toward  the  door  to  make  their  exit,  which  they  found 
fastened. 

"  Remain,"  cried  Marie,  with  stately  dignity.  "  I  wish  you 
honored  guests  to  be  witness  of  this  scene  in  the  hour  of  jus- 
tification, as  you  were  also  present  at  the  one  when  one  of 
the  noblest  and  best  of  men  cursed  me. — Banker  Splittgerber, 
take  these  bills  of  exchange  for  one  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
Pay  these  gentlemen,  and  devote  the  remainder  to  the  other 
debts  as  far  as  it  will  go." 

As  the  three  men  withdrew  by  a  side-door,  Marie  ex- 
claimed :  "  I  will  now  explain  to  you  that  Baron  von  Leu- 
then  is  ruined — poor  as  a  beggar  when  he  will  not  work." 

"Marie,"  cried  Ebenstreit,  terrified,  rushing  toward  her, 
and  seizing  her  by  the  arm.  "  Marie — " 

She  threw  off  his  hand  from  her  in  anger.  "  Do  not  touch 
me,  sir,  and  do  not  presume  either  to  address  me  with  any 
endearments.  You  have  yourself  said  that  our  marriage  was 
not  a  veritable  one,  but  was  like  the  union  of  associates  in 
business,  and  now  I  would  inform  you  it  is  dissolved :  the 
one  is  a  bankrupt;  the  other  a  woman  whom  you  cursed,  and 
who  reclaims  of  you  four  years  of  shame  and  degradation. 
You  wonder  at  my  speaking  thus,  but  you  do  not  know  this 
man,  my  friends." 

As  she  spoke,  a  door  opened  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room, 
and  Trude  entered  in  her  simple  dress,  followed  by  Philip 
Moritz.  Unobserved  the  two  glided  behind  the  charming 
grotto  which  had  been  arranged  with  flowers  and  wreaths  in 
one  of  the  niches.  Every  eye  was  turned  upon  the  pale, 
stately  beauty,  erect  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 

"  Stay  here,  for  no  one  can  see  us,"  whispered  Trude.  "  I 
could  not  bear  to  have  you  leave  Berlin  without  hearing  the 
justification  of  my  dear  Marie,  and  may  God  pardon  me  for 


REVENGE  FULFILLED.  403 

letting  you  come  here  unbeknown  to  her !  Listen,  and  pray 
to  Him  to  forgive  you  the  great  injustice  that  you  have  done 
her.  Be  quiet,  that  no  one  may  see  you,  and  Marie  be  angry 
with  her  old  Trude." 

"Yes,"  continued  Marie,  with  chilling  contempt,  "you 
should  know  this  man  before  whom  you  have  all  bowed, 
pressed  the  hand,  and  called  your  friend,  because  he  was  rich, 
and,  thanks  to  his  wealth  alone,  became  a  titled  man — a 
baron,  buying  the  hand  of  a  poor  but  noble  maiden,  whom  he 
knew  despised  him,  and  passionately  loved  another,  having 
sworn  eternal  constancy  to  him.  I  am  that  young  girl.  I 
begged,  nay  implored  him,  not  to  pursue  me,  but  he  was  void 
of  pity,  mocked  my  tears,  and  said  he  could  buy  my  love,  and 
my  heart  would  at  last  be  touched  by  the  influence  of  his 
wealth.  I  should  have  preferred  to  die,  but  Fate  ordered 
that  the  one  I  loved,  by  my  fault,  should  by  imprisonment 
atone  our  brief  dream  of  bliss.  I  could  only  save  him  by  ac- 
cepting this  man ;  these  were  the  conditions.  I  became  his 
wife  before  the  world,  and  took  my  oath  in  his  presence  to 
revenge  myself,  and  after  four  years  I  shall  accomplish  it.  I 
nave  spent  his  money,  and  of  the  rich  man  made  a  beggar. 
Qod  be  praised,  I  can  now  revenge  myself  in  freeing  myself!" 

"Free  yourself?  It  is  not  true!  You  are  my  wife  still," 
.•replied  Ebenstreit,  alarmed. 

A  radiant  smile  flitted  over  Marie's  face  as  she  defied  Eben- 
streit with  the  law  of  the  Great  Frederick,  who  had  decided 
that  every  unhappy  couple  without  offspring  could  separate 
by  their  own  free  will  and  consent,  having  signed  a  paper  to 
that  effect. 

"Is  that  the  paper  which  you  have  made  me  sign?"  cried 
Ebenstreit,  alarmed. 

"  Yes,  drawn  up  by  my  notary,  and  both  of  our  names  are 
signed  to  it." 

"  It  is  a  fraud!"  cried  Ebenstreit.  "I  will  protest  against 
it." 

"  Do  it,  and  you  will  find  it  a  vain  effort.     I  promised  to 


404  OLD  FRITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

pay  your  debt  if  you  would  put  your  name  to  the  document 
then  placed  before  you,  which  you  did.  Ask  the  Marquis 
Troves  how  I  paid  your  debts:  he  will  answer  you  that  he  has 
given  me  the  money." 

"  I  had  the  honor  to  pay  to  the  baroness  one  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars,  as  she  rightly  informs  you." 

"Yes,"  continued  Marie,  "the  marquis  is  the  present  pos- 
sessor of  this  house  and  all  that  it  contains — furniture, 
statues,  and  pictures;  also  the  equipages  and  silver.  To  my 
mother  I  sent  my  diamonds,  costly  laces,  and  dresses,  to  in- 
demnify her  for  the  annuity  which  Herr  von  Ebenstreit 
settled  upon  her  as  purchase-money  which  he  cannot  pay,  now 
that  he  is  ruined." 

"Marquis,"  cried  Ebenstreit,  pale  with  anger,  "have  you 
really  bought  this  house  and  its  contents?" 

"I  have  done  so,  and  the  one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
the  baroness  has  paid  over  to  Herr  Splittgerber. " 

"  Oh !  I  am  ruined, "  groaned  Ebenstreit — "  I  am  lost !"  and, 
covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  he  rushed  from  the 
room. 

Marie  gazed  at  him  with  a  sad  expression,  saying :  "  Ladies 
and  gentlemen,  you  now  know  to  whom  this  house  belongs. 
You  can  no  longer  say  that  I  am  the  daughter  whom  the  late 
General  von  Leuthen  sold  to  a  rich  man.  I  am  free!" 

At  this  moment  a  side-door  opened,  and  Frau  von  Leuthen 
was  heard  saying  to  old  Trude :  "  Let  me  in !  it  is.  in  vain  to 
hold  me  back.  I  will  have  an  explanation  from  my  daughter, 
and  learn  what  all  this  means."  As  she  pushed  herself  into 
the  room,  she  exclaimed:  "Ah,  it  is  a  fete  day!  There  is 
the  baroness  in  all  her  glory  and  splendor.  She  is  not  crazed, 
as  I  feared  this  morning,  when  she  sent  me  all  her  ornaments 
and  fine  dresses  and  laces,  with  a  note,  sealed  with  black,  in- 
scribed upon  it,  'Will  of  the  Baroness  Ebenstreit  von  Leu- 
then.' I  opened  it,  and  read:  'I  give  to  my  mother  my 
precious  ornaments,  laces,  and  dresses,  to  secure  to  her  the 
pension  which  she  has  lost. — MARIE.  '  I  came  here  to  learn  if 


REVENGE  FULFILLED.  405 

my  daughter  were  dead,  and  what  the  conclusion  of  this  lost 
pension  may  be,  and  I  find — " 

"You  find  the  confirmation  of  all  that  I  wrote  to  you," 
replied  Marie,  coldly.  "  Baron  Ebenstreit  von  Leutheu  is 
ruined.  I  have  secured  to  you,  in  the  sum  which  my  jewels 
and  laces  will  bring  you,  the  annuity,  so  that  you  have  not 
lost  the  money  promised  you  for  your  daughter,  and  the  mar- 
riage you  have  arranged  has  at  least  borne  good  fruit  to  you." 

"You  are  a  cruel,  ungrateful  child,"  cried  the  mother.  "  I 
have  long  known  it,  and  rejected  you  from  my  heart,  and 
from  all  shame  I  will  yet  protect  the  name  you  bear.  I  have 
just  seen  a  sign  in  the  Friedrich-strasse,  'Flower  manufactory 
of  Marie  von  Leuthen. '  What  does  this  mean?  Terrified,  I 
stared  speechless  at  these  fearful  words,  and  at  the  busy  work- 
men preparing  the  house." 

"I  will  explain  it  to  you,"  cried  Marie,  with  radiant  mien. 
"  I  have  again  become  the  flower-maker,  and  beg  your  favor, 
Countess  von  Moltke,  Frau  von  Morien,  and  all  the  other 
ladies.  I  am  free,  and  no  longer  the  wife  of  a  hated  hus- 
band— no  longer  the  distinguished  and  wealthy  woman.  All 
delusion  and  mockery  have  vanished.  The  costly  dress  and 
jewels  that  I  now  wear  I  will  cast  off  from  me  as  the  last  sou- 
venir of  the  past." 

Unclasping  the  diamond  necklace  and  bracelets,  she  handed 
them  to  her  mother,  saying:  "Take  them,  and  also  this 
dress,  the  last  finery  I  possess."  She  unloosed  the  band,  and 
the  long  white  satin  train  fell  at  her  feet.  Emerging  from  it 
as  from  a  silvery  cloud,  she  stood  before  them  in  a  simple 
white  dress,  as  she  was  clothed  in  her  girlhood.  "  Take  them 
all,"  she  joyfully  cried.  "  Take  them,  mother,  it  is  all  past. 
I  am  now  myself  again.  Farewell,  witnesses  of  this  scene!  I 
now  quit  your  circle;  and  you,  my  mother,  I  forgive  you; 
may  the  thoughts  of  your  unhappy  child  never  trouble  you, 
waking  or  sleeping;  may  you  forget  that  your  daughter  lives, 
and  is  wretched.  Eevenge  has  not  softened  my  grief,  or  re- 
moved your  curse  from  my  head!" 


406  OLD  FEITZ  AND  THE  NEW  ERA. 

"  I  will  lift  it  off  your  brow,  Marie!"  cried  Moritz,  sud- 
denly appearing  from  the  window-niche,  with  beaming  face 
and  outstretched  arms,  approaching  Marie,  who,  surprised  and 
alarmed,  retreated.  "  Oh,  noble,  courageous  woman,  for- 
give me  that  I  have  been  an  unbidden  witness  to  this  scene, 
though  by  this  means  I  now  clearly  recognize  your  strength  of 
mind,  and  elevation  of  soul,  and  the  wrong  that  I  have  com- 
mitted in  doubting  and  cursing  you  during  these  four  years 
of  gloom  and  despair.  I  bow  before  you,  Marie,  and  implore 
you,  upon  my  knees,  to  forgive  me  all  the  cruel,  harsh  words 
that  I  have  uttered — that  I  have  dared  as  a  wretched  fool  to 
doubt  you  in  this  long  night  of  despair.  The  day  is  dawning 
again  upon  us ;  a  new  sun  will  yet  cheer  us  with  its  rays.  Do 
not  turn  from  me,  but  look  at  me,  and  grant  me  forgiveness. 
— My  dear  friend  and  father,  speak  for  me,  for  you  know 
what  I  have  suffered.  Beg  of  her  to  forgive  me." 

"Marie,"  said  the  venerable  old  man,  approaching  her, 
gently  putting  his  arm  around  her,  "  God  has  willed  that  you, 
my  poor,  long-tried  child,  should  pass  through  a  season  of 
extreme  sorrbw.  You  are  now  released,  and  all  that  belonged 
to  you  has  vanished!" 

As  he  spoke,  he  signed  to  the  guests  to  withdraw.  Many 
had  already  escaped  the  painful  scene  by  the  side-door. 

Marie  was  now  alone  in  the  magnificent  apartment,  with 
Herr  Gedicke  and  Moritz.  She  still  stood,  with  concealed 
face,  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 

"Oh,  Marie,"  implored  Moritz,  "hide  not  your  dear  face 
from  me !  Eead  in  mine  the  deep  grief  of  the  past  and  the 
bliss  of  the  future.  I  thank  God  that  this  unnatural  union 
is  severed,  and  that  you  are  free.  Be  courageous  to  the  end !" 
Moritz  impetuously  drew  her  hand  away,  revealing  her  tearful 
countenance,  as  her  head  sank  upon  his  shoulder.  "  Can  you 
not  forgive  me,  Marie?"  he  cried,  with  deep  emotion.  "We 
have  both  wandered  through  a  waste  of  grief,  and  now  ap- 
proach life  radiant  with  happiness.  Oh,  speak  to  me,  Marie; 
can  you  not  love  me  and  forgive  me?" 


REVENGE   FULFILLED.  407 

She  gazed  into  his  eyes,  and  in  their  depths  read  that  which 
gradually  softened  her  hardened  features,  and  caused  a  smile 
to  play  upon  her  lip.  "  I  love  you  dearly,  devotedly;  let  this 
be  our  parting  word.  Go  forth  into  the  world,  Moritz ;  my 
affection  will  follow  you  whithersoever  you  wander,  and  my 
soul  will  be  true  to  you  through  all  eternity,  though  we  are 
forever  separated.  The  poor  wife,  with  her  dismal  retrospec- 
tions, must  not  cast  a  shadow  upon  your  future.  Go,  my 
beloved — Italy  awaits  you,  and  art  will  console  you!" 

"  Follow  me,  dear  Marie ;  only  by  your  side  am  I  happy. 
You  are  free  and  independent,"  cried  Moritz. 

"Oh,  father,"  cried  Marie,  leaning  upon  the  venerable  old 
man,  "  explain  to  him  that  I  am  still  the  wife  of  that  hated 
man!" 

"  She  is  right,  Philip;  do  not  urge  her  further.  She  must 
first  be  legally  separated,  and  this  weary  heart  must  have 
time  to  recover  its  wonted  calm.  Go  to  Italy,  and  confide 
your  future  and  happiness  to  my  care.  Marie  has  lost  a 
mother,  but  she  shall  find  a  father  in  me.  I  will  watch  over 
her  until  your  return." 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Trade  entered.  "Every 
thing  is  ready ;  all  the  things  which  used  to  stand  in  the  little 
garret-room  are  packed  and  sent  to  the  manufactory.  Shall 
we  go,  too,  dear  child?" 

"Yes,"  she  cried,  embracing  the  faithful  old  woman. 
"  Farewell,  Philip — Italy  calls  you !" 

"  I  will  go,  but  when  I  return  will  you  not  be  my  wife?" 

Marie  gazed  at  Moritz,  radiant  with  happiness,  saying: 
"  The  answer  is  engraven  upon  my  heart.  Eeturn,  and  then 
I  will  joyfully  respond  to  your  love  before  God  and  man!" 

OR 

THE   END. 


